the wispy word late day sun
the wispy word late day sunglowing in a green goblet tree
whispered by doggy winds
strikes air born billowing to a halt
wanton is a tarmac man in shades
corroding the sparrowed intent
meant for laurels and victories
rose bushed and whisked to yesterday
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2014-07-16 at 21:08
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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