Deep Poetry: Wild Madness

By friskyinsane - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, June 13, 2011

Wild Madness

Fullness of the moon painting dreams in his nights he stood under the heavens and laughed and appreciated the emptiness of the space. He stared at the stars, heard rainbows sing clouds’ whisper and flew with the birds. He talked to plants, saw flowers meditate, shades dance and mountains walk and ebbing tides ran thro’ his veins. People called him a lunatic. I believe he is a poet. His uncle planted trees or started on fresh things only in the waxing moon phase or else they wont flourish, he... Sign in to see full entry.

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