Posted in Poetry

Draw the Moon

The sky is howling in the twilight

As the chariot of the moon flies;

She hears her fate that she wants not

Thru the rustling leaves and grass

Swaying in the wind of the chariot

And draws the moon from the seat

To take back her unwanted future.

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