The Babbler's RiddleA Poem by WolfwindA rambling at the river StixOh what weeps within thine tears Caressing my ears That sound, sweet with melancholy… What? What sayeth in prattling? Hast thou not spurned a tower’s madness? Touched thee not the stone of duress? Fancied all but a drip of darkened wine Never weakening a morbid joust… Upon an arid sea… A rooster did thy roust! Run…run… Run you say, jagged play Of flesh and born blood thy seeded Unmercifully weakening those fancied Never tinkling a grievous knot Thy ship sank in heaves of restless pain Granted… Not once thy minded…insane Revelry at best! Of twilights beer and roasted gore Cored apples and puréed fate! Some lack lust wonder with…none to suspect Some unthreaded and monstrous mate …great… Oh wait..? Didst thy stand on pins of splinters? Bamboo yards, tied hemp in glorious twists! Oh Yay! You’ll live this day A babbler’s quay encroached neatly Motioned on…ever so sweetly © 2013 WolfwindFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on July 17, 2013 Last Updated on July 17, 2013 AuthorWolfwindCoupeville, WAAboutSometimes poet, always an artist, creator of colorful visions, dreamer, and a seeker of things not yet known. more..Writing
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