“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label five. Show all posts
Showing posts with label five. Show all posts
Saturday, July 16, 2016
quin
Quintessentially
being, me, sole-fully
keeping five alive.
Painting By Victor Dubreuil (1846 - 1946) (American) Five dollar bill circa 1885 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Nightfall
Woken from a deep slumber, as if my name was spoken aloud. Only the spotlight of a honeyed full moon sings across my shadowed walls. Heart...

-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
Family members, Party members, Americans and American'ts: There will be no favors! Some were lovable, some detestable at b...