tales from the murky splurge:

Friday, January 14, 2011

Carefree are we to exist this way fallen leaves scatter on our paths There are words in your silence, I hear what you say but scared is the night dare you ask I dream I am leaving to far away lands you will wave from the gate that is locked your fingers stay limp as you lift up your hands and time... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 1:10 PM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
January 2011
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About this Blog

Poetry is about expression of thought. Sometimes the best work is the kind of stuff that just leaps up from within our soul. I write a lot about the murky splurge...This defines a place where we are are given the freedom to bare our souls in word but understand it is between the lines where most truth resides, In a world which has an abundance of love for all to share there is a whirlwind stirring. these words come out of a storm, but reader of my blog, please see although we write about many things, we may just mean another...well that is what the villagers said..... have fun.

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