For me a poem has to sing out of itself and the lilt of it carries the magic.
For me a poem has to sing out of itself and the lilt of it carries the magic.
Identify Gods emissaries By the light in their eyes, By the lilt in their song, By the glow of their skin And the joy within Not with the face of a dried-up peach, And a voice that would teach Of doom and sin.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories