"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
A Rambling Poet
Drops of light drizzle,
from the murky firmament,
the smell of fresh earth,
a feeling of settlement.
with tarty scent of cashew fruits stirs,
this aperture enigmatic,
laughter and play of yesteryears,
jasmine blooming nights romantic.
Devoid of form,
these feelings wildly rush,
that can’t be told,
with the strokes of a brush.
When the glum time comes,
to discard the body now lifeless,
stench of burning flesh,
Life dissolves in air of nothingness.
Name: Sharon Well
Contest name: Writing in the sublime