A storm is coming 
and I can't sleep. 
I can feel the deep 
lapping at my feet. 
Tides tease 
waves black and violent 
breathe, plead
come inside take a peek. 
I think I retreat 
go back 
hide in the trees 
where the owl 
steals my dreams 
and the grass 
colours everything green.
Not all is 
always as it seems 
in between lies 
the true heart of things.



◄ Rust

Amber ►


<Deleted User> (17847)

Sun 23rd Jul 2017 18:56

stand-out lines? last four for me?

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sun 23rd Jul 2017 12:25

I like this a lot. The last four lines are superb.

Are you familiar with the mysticism of 'the White Owl' in the cultural tales of the Original Inhabitants of North America? Very interesting.

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