|
| |
My Words
As my words "cascade" off my tongue,
onto the "myriad" of blank pages.
Each letter will slowly "slither,"
slither into a "serpentine" of sentences.
As I stop to read,
will the pages "lilt" to me?
With tired eyes I see a "nebula" bright night,
as I look out my huge window at the "lunar" light.
Copyright ©
Paula Goldsmith
|
|