tales from the murky splurge:

Saturday, February 5, 2011

The words which captivated a withered soul brought light and softness served on wishes on glass crystal dishes we drank from coniving cups steaming but no poisen did we swallow only meaning the cross fire missed us i care not now of your love or lies you broke the twisting time of tales on dusty... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by spiderfly at 6:18 AM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
February 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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