Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
There is a thing called the in-between.
It seeps into crevices;
canvassing the heart into colour.
Too small to be recognised by all;
but those who seek it;
develop an awareness;
of its internal framework.
Malleable and hybrid;
simply sailing between the real;
waiting to be invited.
Below the surface of the mind;
it calms the stormy seas;
resuscitating the imagination.
Written by
Jennifer Truter  New Zealand
(New Zealand)   
257
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems