Vanilla Moan
Electric eyes behold...
A screaming piece of fluffy Shakespheare runs through my veins.
Winter's cooling fingers from prizes refrains.
Breath of Shakespheare in my lungs remains.
Like a playful kitten frozen in mid-dance...
He whispers his soft vanilla moan to the world...
"Hold my Art in your hands, hark the gentle mating call."
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.