She gazed upon her beau in the
Gazebo,
The wind was winding windily
And wound around her wounds
Moreso, and so much more,
And also, all of it was all so
A surfeit, that sure fit
Where the boards themselves would surf it
And cast abroad words as broadswords,
With cars of tunes as cartoons,
In platoons, and importunes,
And all of it
Misfortunes
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Tagged: Tags Poetry Words
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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