The wooden pulpit split
cracked like thunder
and from its splinters
came life, green and flowing
vines that slithered and twined
their bodies from pulpit to pew
and from it burst roses
every color of a sunset
except those holding together
the pulpit she stood behind
those were white as the moon.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
The wooden pulpit split
cracked like thunder
and from its splinters
came life, green and flowing
vines that slithered and twined
their bodies from pulpit to pew
and from it burst roses
every color of a sunset
except those holding together
the pulpit she stood behind
those were white as the moon.
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