Posted by: endithinks | September 7, 2007

Thursday Poetry 9/6/07

If you want to blow a bubble you have to kiss the wind.

Puffing and huffing never do, they just fluster and flounce red in the face,

a bubble doesn’t respond to force, shouting, or redness of face, only whispers, quiet promises, and promises kept.

A wand, a kiss and  treasure iridescent and shimering as it floats,

dancing on the babbles of those celestial wisps,

those airy maidens.


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