Fragments of deep verse
Washing ashore
Yet the lyrical tempest
Hasn’t even
S t a r t e d
In this rough and
slumbering,
Wetly dry and
Wicked,
Late summer
of slow
w o r d sWake up,
W o r d S t o r m e r
Have you ever
dreamed of
such a late,
And furious,
Timeless,
Fateful,
Somber,
Fearsome,
Word
S t o r m ?
Wake up,
W o r d S t o r m e r
Sedimented stanzas
Washing ashore
Yet the lyrical tempest
Hasn’t even
S t a r t e d
Far removed
from Self,
Far removed
From Other,
Far removed
from
Poets—
Far removed—
SmotheredIn this rough,
slumbering,
Wetly dry and
Wicked,
Late summer
Of slow
w o r d sWake up,
P o e m S t o r m e r
The picture is so good, and the poetry is phenomenal. Has the PoemStormer woken up?
🙂 she’s in the process i reckon
There must be somebody there, because somebody must have said “Nobody.
A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
So wonderful VB 💜
Happy you liked it!!! 💜
Title is a winner! Freshly done!
Thank you Ben!!!! 🙂
Welcome! 🙂
Welcome!!!!!