Dew drenched rose petels, Winter’s perfect deception, Season’s seduction!
Don’t be deceived by the lissom rose’s seductiveness; with her sharp claws and long fangs winter lurks in the background to take you in to her freezing embrace!
The hesitant shadow of a melancholy poet, while walking on it's wobbly undefined legs, result of light losing to darkness, speaks to the alert poetic self, listening with perked up ears, in a strange dialect of darkness about 'being in nothingness'
Too much concrete and tarmac separates your heart too much tongue wiggling can make you deaf. A poet knows no cure from the sinews of song wrapped up tight in silence between each word. You can thumb a lift down the highway talk non stop like your wizzing too much amphetamine be uptight over nothing. Hear the silence call to you while in the midst of a crowd. Poetry has your heart and you know, you have to follow it.