dead poet (Remove filter)
A Beautiful, Dreamy Poetry Day, MASSACRE!
Through your window, the puffed up clouds
And sun drizzled fields are beckoning poetic verse to be written.
Behind you, a gentle scratching sound distracts
But you don't turn.
It's probably that sneaky, little dormouse that sometimes visits
Yes, that's what it'll be
And yet...
...Is something staring?
Something glaring?
Slyly peeping
Slowly ...
Wednesday 1st September 2021 12:30 pm
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