Watching, waiting, whispering…
Whittling words with wonder,
wandering willowed wildflowers –
welcoming whimpering winds.
Wishing written wealth wielded
without wailful warfare.
Weapons waging–
weeping, wept.
Woeful writers wrought
whose wisdoms writhe,
where weathered windows
weaken wantonness.
Where winter washes
what worry weaves.
Wonderfully whetting
words – wildly
willfully within.
About the Creator
Savannah M
Sometimes writer, Amateur artist, and bunny enthusiast.
All Rights Reserved.
Keep reading
More stories from Savannah M and writers in Poets and other communities.
Thoughts on Vocal and the way the world is
"Death cannot stop true love, only delay it." – Wesley in The Princess Bride. I decided to come back to Vocal on a very cold and dark night at the end of December. I had been, and still am, convalescing from a horrible staph infection that had gone misdiagnosed for months. This, paired with the increasing challenges of being healthy, making the best choices for my co-parented child, being a wife, and being a director at a new job, was a lot to manage.
By Jazzy 4 days ago in Confessions
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.