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Sep 2019
the sky rises up, gathers
her midnight greys, her
ghosts the whiteness
of the moon, her
silhouette the
night fragments
flowing with the tide.
we drift dream-like,
unwind like a blossoming
rose, the sea like a mooning
skull, haunted, silver-rimmed.
hi everyone, i will be taking a break from hello while i look at establishing myself on twitter. i am fed up with the 'view' system here which does not give genuine views of the poetry. most of my friends have now left this site and the truth is publishers want poetry that has not been published previously on line and i'm having to respect that fact. if you want to follow me on twitter please message me here and i will let you know my tag. take care now, beth.
beth fwoah dream boleyn
Written by
beth fwoah dream boleyn  England
(England)   
528
       Sk Abdul Aziz, ---, duang fu, B, Elena and 15 others
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