Mother Nature pure,
For she holds the key to life,
She blooms with power.
Gusts of wind blew by,
As fast as a minor thought,
The yielding breeze cold.
Endless luminous,
Ravenous inferno glow,
Flames claim this space.
Crashing waves meet shore,
Earth’s elemental gift,
To quench all our thirst.
About the Creator
Simone Marie
Always loved reading and writing. This is my push to show everyone the many stories I have brewing in me! Here’s to storytelling!
Keep reading
More stories from Simone Marie and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooperabout 18 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.