Ephemeral Poems Become Phantoms Ephemeral poems become phantoms; Whispering voices, a somnolent prayer Evaporating in shivering air. Shadowy plunderers of sleep and rhyme Haunt the sepulchre of inspiration, Midnight burglars of imagination. © Kim M. Russell, 2015
Tag: Sestet
A Sunday sestet
Overcast The day is overcast and sombre, The sky a shimmering quicksilver, Ponderous clouds squeeze the atmosphere And droplets of rain are fresh and clear, Inspiring muted green, blue and grey – A watery palette on a rainy day.
writing in north norfolk 