Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
That poetess flew across the sky;
her poems embroidered in red silk .
Blazed light bright shining;
her smile and wit and weave.
And all we are left with is mist;
fragrances of her poems perfumes
too strong for the sun to eclipse
or break through her passing gift.
Written by
nivek
Please log in to view and add comments on poems