|
|
The moon is at her peak
By bits, we all gathered
Trees sway and clap,
Others bleat; insects shriek
A match of time in weather,
It's the earth song; we sang
Each steps in her manner;
Though the tune swerve the rhythm
On we dance; hope it’ll rhyme
Lo! Far in the night, it hit us;
Drummers were drunk....
Each dance the dance home
Behind, our prints on earth
For children to wipe after; morning
|
1
Tags
You must be logged in to add tags.
|
Writer Profile
Joel
Life for me has taken a new turn since I discovered the power of my pen. Poetry is the best part of me that is yet to be rivalled.
|
Comments
You must be a TakingITGlobal member to post a comment. Sign up for free or login.
|
|
