This is a calling out to all of my fellow poets, from the dungeons of home renovation. You no doubt wonder where I have been, I am deep into duty, and my writing has taken a backseat for a while. Spring is passing me by and I need your prose.......please dig deep inside and give me back my Spring. Thank you.
Tell me of Spring dear poets,
do the colors drip with dew?
For I'm locked inside my responsibilities,
and must do, what I must do.
No one should miss a season,
for there are so precious few.
So pen for me your visions,
whether dremt or whether true.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
This is a calling out to all of my fellow poets, from the dungeons of home renovation. You no doubt wonder where I have been, I am deep into duty, and my writing has taken a backseat for a while. Spring is passing me by and I need your prose.......please dig deep inside and give me back my Spring. Thank you.
Tell me of Spring dear poets,
do the colors drip with dew?
For I'm locked inside my responsibilities,
and must do, what I must do.
No one should miss a season,
for there are so precious few.
So pen for me your visions,
whether dremt or whether true.
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