Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2013
A rose wine sky
an eagles whine
a clouds floats by, a day so fine wrapped in a shawl
and I shall hear the buzzards call.
Thermal draughts,hyena laughs
Lions roar.
My spirits soar,
I am set free,
the day becomes a part of me.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  69/Here and now
(69/Here and now)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems