Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2015
i.

in the air
the sweet flow
of a bird.

ii.

drawn, perfect blossom,
the wind that refuses to settle.  

iii.

november’s fine golds
melt like clouds.

iv.

i burn for your kiss
like a bird that stays
with a boat
my lips seek your lips
forever.
beth fwoah dream
Written by
beth fwoah dream  England
(England)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems