My god son by Ann Wood
My tiny sonthe hill was steep
in a mercilessly cold ocean.
Love saved it!
And the lasers in me
they pointed to the bright street.
In a world dull and gray,
who sinks in garbage,
to remember the wise Noah -
how good save,
of the crackle
and settled down the dead man ...
I have a fairy-tale son!
A strange mud mud,
he proved with a pulse quick,
that he has a ghost-spirit.
Path worthy of choice,
he is the knight of the new day!
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2018-01-12 at 08:00
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