A windchime
The way you paddle the wind, You slay my heart with a witty tind. I read your brochure with a handful of blueberries, you nurtured the hoe with a hoop of cherries. I left the gala to see the way you agitate, you are a beholder perching against that fate. You never talked and slayed some silvery mimes, Reason is the truth why they called you a windchime. The beauty you beholds and the ugliness i keep, With the moon over my shoulder warming like a sheep. I see you…
Read More