Dear scribbler,
Dear delicate fiddling fool,
Bring each beat of your wings closer, swing their breadth to my face.
With slower flurry, or furious flow,
A quieter pace,
And make me glow.
Tips of felt-tip pens against,
My skin and then,
Spelling; when?
Dear fiddler, where will you pray,
Next? Where will you meet the earth again?
Swing each beat of your wings,
Closer,
Bring their breadth, make me sing.
©2007-2008 ~Ubenta
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Submitted: July 13, 2007
File Size: 598 bytes
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Comments: 2
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Submitted: July 13, 2007
File Size: 598 bytes
Image Size: 0 bytes
Resolution: 0×0
Comments: 2
Favourites & Collections: 4 [who?]
Views
Total: 127
Today: 0
Downloads
Total: 1
Today: 0
Thumb
Author's Comments
First thing 've written in ages.
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zedlike and beautiful
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