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Aug 2018
Rough cobblestone betrayed stealthy shoes
As she rushed inside from fierce winds that blew
Turning on the kettle with ease
Stirring inside her mug the tea leaves
Reading and waiting in relief from the cold
Seated, solitary, sound in her soul
Future’s Phantoms and Past’s Pesks
Were barred from activity duty, assigned to old desks
And she was contented with brilliant bows
Placed upon life’s box, wrapped in serenity’s gold
For she held what birthday’s usually see
Or what others place under a Christmas tree
Pauper of Prose
Written by
Pauper of Prose  M/Maryland, America
(M/Maryland, America)   
232
     ---, rob kistner, Fawn, Indra and Myrrdin
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