Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
He covertly rubs his hands, wiping an "A" from his mouth sprinkles his ankles with ashes of "summer's days". He licks his blue lips, parting to speak: Not empty but "full", he howls and, rolling the empty bowles- with loads "of sound"- to the edge of the table: "And fury" he cries- shrill and brief - Crash! the little green ****** the ******* that word-loving thief! He slides down the wooden leg, silently now, scurrying back. Head low, mouth sealed, yielding                  the field                              to the writers.
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
The Word Thief
He covertly rubs his hands, wiping an "A" from his mouth sprinkles his ankles with ashes of "summer's days". He licks his blue lips, parting to speak: Not empty but "full", he howls and, rolling the empty bowles- with loads "of sound"- to the edge of the table: "And fury" he cries- shrill and brief - Crash! the little green ****** the ******* that word-loving thief! He slides down the wooden leg, silently now, scurrying back. Head low, mouth sealed, yielding                  the field                              to the writers.
does that make you think of a Leprechaun?
Vera
Written by
38/F
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem