![]() summer afternoonA Poem by Father Mojo
I see its promise in the darkening sky;
I hear its whisper in the changing breeze, carrying hints of its rain-soaked scent; I feel its charged touch on my skin-- a storm is coming... © 2011 Father Mojo |
Stats
159 Views
1 Review Added on June 7, 2011 Last Updated on June 9, 2011 Author![]() Father MojoCarneys Point, NJAbout"I gave food to the poor and they called me a saint; I asked why the poor have no food and they called me a communist. --- Dom Helder Camara" LoveMyProfile.com more..Writing
|