seek dark shadows on the stairs Footsteps in rhythm Cool blood runs through fingers again Candles flicker Eyes wide open Fear the rain I see your shape with whiskey hold cautious hands tremble Run behind locked doors and quick Holding breath A storm breaks Fear the rain. Jump when knocks beat hard... Sign in to see full entry.
tales from the murky splurge:
By spiderfly - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry
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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