Depth
nette
the hunger of the depth instills,
the feeling strokes the little chills,
and bursting forth it enters till,
eruption stops her dreaming,
beyond the gate, the miseltoe,
says come on mate,
it's time you know,
to rise again to penetrate,
to be at one within the gate,
it's dangerous i know,
just do your bit for fate,
and sow...
Don Johnson
re nette's poem a Maverick
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2012
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