Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
The words float wonderfully across the open meadows of dew,
Transforming after each bounce, every green blade aiding the future tense.

Where is she?
The words sing gleefully as they play in the morning sun greeting the new,
Creating in a birds mind for the angels always have wings, their hearts immense.

We have found her!
How is she?
The words dance around her aura, admiring the warmth of the fog, the breath of two,
Imagining only a walking stick next to foot prints, compassionately using sixth sense.

Well, what do you think?
I quite like the sound of her!
Who is she?
The words visit my throat shakra, my hot blood pumps connecting, trusting in you,
Rebirthing poetic love, Meditating towards the peaceful calming lavender incense.

She reminds of someone I know, or knew...
Wow, does she remind you of tink?
We should all be together!
But will she?
The words kiss me good bye, twinkling in my blue eyes, and I bid them adieu,
Reharnessing my self worth, becoming a readied spirit warrior, taking on the intense.
7am May 9th
Harly Coward
Written by
Harly Coward  Canada
(Canada)   
  1.7k
   shaffu shafiq and ryn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems