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The pulse of freedom

There is a sight I hold dear. A misty morning, a grey veil, green hills in the background, lush and abundant. On the fore, at about 100 feet...

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Wayfaring

Waking up
To
Wavers
Of weaving
Another
Wanderlust
Of
Waxing
And
Waning
Windy
Wefts,
Wambling
My way
Through,
Like a
Wantwit,
Winnowing
Words
To
Wield
Wordy
Wizardries,
Warmed
Wooed and
Wizened
In the
Wayfaring.



2 comments:

  1. Ohh, very pretty. I enjoyed this piece.

    Stopping by from the #atozchallenge !
    @JLenniDorner

    ReplyDelete

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.