wild Irish rose

i was wondering if tomorrow
it'll be heard in my sky's soul
some acute echoes
in your spoken language,
attired in some incantations
with proper inklings, while
are ingesting tasty frissons,
just to lean the fog in spam,
sufficiently to can be seen
my spectrum's chromaticities
in the smoky apparition
of your black-golden beam,
wrapped in the suave scent
of a wild Irish rose, fed by me…

poetic audience

Explore Popular Posts From This Blog

the island

my only one

solitaire

body blues...

emotion

somewhere

Say

adrenaline

vortex

salut