Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
She’s soft and scented in *****
Aromas of fine wine, upon her skin cruise
She holds her glass steady, then takes a sip
Eyes cast out to sea, under the waves her thoughts slip
As if everything around her, was but a blip
Some passerby wants to ask what’s she thinking
But seeing her so relaxed, instead asked what’s she drinking
Pauper of Prose
Written by
Pauper of Prose  M/Maryland, America
(M/Maryland, America)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems