Posted in Poetry

Raconteuse

Those sweet-talks

Of love’s labor lit

In the moonlight

Upon the waters

Creep by her

Standing by the river

Like a sibyl cast

Out by the gods

For her want of

Love they took

Away from her.

Author:

I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s