WIND OF CHANGE
Whilst we muse, a plateau is found,
In this endless merry go round;
Nigh we reach to touch the shore,
Deeming, "it's time to moor!"
Out of the blue comes the scent of brine,
For a churning in the east has begun.
Coursing the vastness of oceans,
Here's the whirl with a voice, a thousand,
Aloft, twisting waves, foaming clouds,
Nigh making rains and thunder claps.
Greet this wind with your sail set wide,
Engage this tide and be lifted high!
YOU ARE READING
3rd Annual Biggest Competition Ever - 2018
PoetryWelcome to the Poets Pub 3rd Annual Biggest Competition Ever. This year it will be an eight (8) week gauntlet style poetry competition, with a new poetry prompt every week and a winner announced each week. All winners will be eligible for our Poet...
