Brought guitars to a prose war

My pen in your eye





Suddenly your perspective

In my metaphor




Cooling on the sand

Sunset slips off her red dress

Golden coy whispers




Mockingbird morning

My coffee cup serenade

Spinner dolphins play




Keawe mutters

Warning unwary bare toes

‘We all have our thorns’




Down the rabbit hole

Wonderland was illusion

No magic at all




Cutting you with prose

That knife you stuck in my back

Makes a good weapon




Green eyes haunting me

In unmentionable ways

Crowding my silence




Awe inspiring

The clarity of rainbows

If you look just right




Magnificent feast

My compliments to the chef

A mouth full of Poe




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