*Your embrace, the sweet taste of hot mulled cider
touching upon my poetic soul like burning embers
Scent of sun's ripplings upon ocean's salted clean air
I hear a soft babbling brook, aside a majestic tower
A rhyme sung out in epical tunes of yesteryear
calling upon idyllic temptation's imagination
Swept away in the grasp of imperfect rapture,
zealous release of poetry's tenderhearted bliss*
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
*Your embrace, the sweet taste of hot mulled cider
touching upon my poetic soul like burning embers
Scent of sun's ripplings upon ocean's salted clean air
I hear a soft babbling brook, aside a majestic tower
A rhyme sung out in epical tunes of yesteryear
calling upon idyllic temptation's imagination
Swept away in the grasp of imperfect rapture,
zealous release of poetry's tenderhearted bliss*
