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The old dusty path
Weather beaten roads

Lead to the farm
With an old barn

The sun shines 
with a light afternoon

Orange cosmos flowers,
grow wild in the
green hills

Silvery white, slender fragrant flowers,
bloom on the Indian cork trees

The full moon glows through the night
On the old dusty path

Danielle Apr 2018
My fury would wash you down and away.
Tumbled red and broken dry,
Til you’ve been laid out flat
And pinned to cork.
No better than a butterfly.
All mine to display.
Sometimes unleashing anger is good and writing it out is really good.

— The End —