A poem by Bob Bobbins...
-
_The Unfortunate Night…
She danced and frowned slightly,
Look at she, young and spritely,
Gesticulating with furious ardor
Dancing, dancing even harder.Failing, flailing back and forth
Wiggling like a new-born horse
Doubtful joy o' filthy gypsy
Good night priestess of the pixie.And so her dance goes on and on
Arms, spirits, roiling free anon
And so the zenith comes, as marble turns to clay,
Night bleeding into day.Wearing shroud of dew crafted,
From midnight's hue so drafted
That none may see thy hidden fires
Nary a Queen yet a Prince of Liars._
-
And a bump for Vilehelm's favourite poem…
-
Xp Given
-
Reviewed. XP Pending.
