Rare riddles are oft bittersweet,
a never ending search for poisonous feed,
sand greyish desert coloured ****
so many studies, not edible this seed?
Emeralds green in forrests deep,
sunken wood drifted apart and seep,
mortal words that never sleep,
in a city full of leaks.
cherished thoughts wandering celestial high,
whose orphans are these lost kids…sigh….
flickering fields, amish nigh;
shiverings on personal corpses,
numb of words, ah… stunts in shortest.
The words refused to be arranged as it must.
I lost my commands of the words, no, it’s no plus,
these words mock mankind as their playful lust,
sorry, now I can only say in the past tense:" Friends, 'twas....."
© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
Rare riddles are oft bittersweet,
a never ending search for poisonous feed,
sand greyish desert coloured ****
so many studies, not edible this seed?
Emeralds green in forrests deep,
sunken wood drifted apart and seep,
mortal words that never sleep,
in a city full of leaks.
cherished thoughts wandering celestial high,
whose orphans are these lost kids…sigh….
flickering fields, amish nigh;
shiverings on personal corpses,
numb of words, ah… stunts in shortest.
The words refused to be arranged as it must.
I lost my commands of the words, no, it’s no plus,
these words mock mankind as their playful lust,
sorry, now I can only say in the past tense:" Friends, 'twas....."
© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Wednesday 3rd June 2015
PF on 29th May 2015 -13.24 hrs.pm.
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