The fog rolling in
Thick and heavy
Invades your mind
Concealing thoughts.
The mist seeping in
Sweet and cloying
Enters your being
Stealing breaths.
The smoke bellowing in
Hot and stinging
Punctures your dreams
Revealing fears.
====================================================
My poet brain has been on standby as I have just started yet another story,
"Hunting for Pocket Watches".
Thoughts on this collection so far?
YOU ARE READING
The Quasi-Coherent Ramblings of a Self Proclaimed Hermitess
DiversosIf the title didn't say it all read on. A collection of poems, other short works and random ideas with varying themes. Reader input is encouraged, oh and a "Hermitess" is a female hermit. Most entries have a base in my real life, but then again mos...
