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.