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Jul 2016
Rain drop showers
in a westward drought
the thought of gloom
a drift in an oceanic twist

By the gulf of Mexico
that warmth of the breeze
inside the Caribbean seas
where the words scoop

The emotive storms sewn
in a triangular Bermuda
where demons seek
and the ghosts speaks

A seance of a spirited
hiss, a miss, the sins
a risk to hint a rant
with a rock to knock

The eon of the dark
captures on the ark
as the cries unpack
on the trees and barks

The motions stones
commotions hones
the notions tones
as a premonition sone

Where your shadows shows
as a silhouette on a plinth
that voice, I never heard
but felt it deep in my heart
Inspired by Torin Galleshaw piece (the way she walks into the night)
Thanks T for musing me. Keep writing beautifully right to the depths of the Bermuda Triangle! lol
Written by
SassyJ  36/F/Australia
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