Purple
purple, majestic, like a raging stormy see whipped bewteen thunder, lightning and sun the wind, the breakers the waves, oh great makers! yet her threat is subtle, soft, almost none gentle, as her eyes are closed or rather lowered to the ground her harness, her armour of shining black her hand sprepared for her very strike do not mistake, her fairy style do not misjudge the book by its cover she is a queen however uncrowned and will be feasting on you within an hour
Noetic-fret!
Fri 18th Nov 2011 18:45
Hi Anna, when i read this, i thought, wow as it gathered pace. But i have to admit that the last bit let it down for me. I really feel you could have gone somewhere braver with this one. Although one can see the truth in the last line, i felt an almighty epic was in the offing. Still though, nice read.
best wishes
and keep posting
mike
x