Peevish little thing. Touch that seeps through Wrapping softly you Slowly, through and through. Wind that blows your hair Chills that are in air That
Dwell, you should dwell on it Breathe, as lungs fill with chill Catch, last of thin tail of it Your dreams and goals – make
Two poetry pieces :
In parroting motion I keep my devotion By checking for letter Of one known creator Who strives by the latter Of endless propriety
Original Poetry The breath of wind in the chilled air, Soft breeze during night flare Darting up to the stars at eleven past To become
Climb down again, fall like a log, Expecting night to flow.. Another turn, another day We’re doomed again to draw.