Baring It All
Halfway through the grave lines
Of a flowing sonnet
A cherry verse fastened to the rhyming boughs
Of mine rhythmic apricot, muse
Each rhyme held its own beauty,
As the stormy poet within--
Seized all, began ~ writing furiously
Regarding, life, death and cantos of love…
Baring all or perhaps nothing at all
Loosing all or perhaps nothing at all…
Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2008
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