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tammy-m-darbyPoems
Hunched over the worn desk In the ***** yellow light Trying to arrange thoughts in array A  small mad woman with a pen in hand On the paper drops of life did lay The mind soared to the golden heavens   Dove blindly into the gates of hell Using her favorite metaphors wildly Dark poetry from a ghost-filled well Eyes shining with frightening excitement The feather pen moved on its own Stories of a thousand lost years Through legends of Troy, Atlantis, and fairyland, she would roam Weary now of endless imagination The ink dried the words would keep Impish smile of triumph on her face   Rest her mind in an enchanted sleep All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby All Material Stored in Author Base.
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
The Poet
Hunched over the worn desk In the ***** yellow light Trying to arrange thoughts in array A  small mad woman with a pen in hand On the paper drops of life did lay The mind soared to the golden heavens   Dove blindly into the gates of hell Using her favorite metaphors wildly Dark poetry from a ghost-filled well Eyes shining with frightening excitement The feather pen moved on its own Stories of a thousand lost years Through legends of Troy, Atlantis, and fairyland, she would roam Weary now of endless imagination The ink dried the words would keep Impish smile of triumph on her face   Rest her mind in an enchanted sleep All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby All Material Stored in Author Base.
tammy-m-darby
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tammy-m-darby
American
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
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