|
| |
Homespun
Simple- homespun poems
no fancy ribbons or satin bows.
Her words taste like earth
a landslide of the soul
unbridled
"Come ride my wild bucking mind
if you dare" she cackles.
The reader sits bare-back
nibbling her words like snacks.
There's no tricks or perfume.
Only soul sweat, the musk elephant of truth...
trumpeting fearless in the pride filled mist.
No forced rhyme or syllable cages.
A she torrent that pays no heed to lines.
Spraying its scent over the face of time
Etching spirit into the hills of the ages.
Copyright ©
Anthony Biaanco
|
|