Harsh numbers and whirled winds,
A cry for silence
Brings November grins;
We shut our mouths with zippered lips,
That grips our organs, tongues and minds
With a slice of pumpkin,
And a cherry stem.
You leave me with a childish grin.
Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 12:07 PM UTC
Harsh numbers and whirled winds,
A cry for silence
Brings November grins;
We shut our mouths with zippered lips,
That grips our organs, tongues and minds
With a slice of pumpkin,
And a cherry stem.
You leave me with a childish grin.