The prince is late.
This castle ledge is getting moldy.
My silken hair is getting split ends up here
and the glaring sun is doing nothing for my agelines.
Ominous crows circle at eyelevel
Thinking i must be a madwoman
waiting
waiting
waiting
for a charming voice from below
that bellows i will be saved,
at last.
7 comments:
cute...good to see you back, was wondering where you have been.
Last week was fires and fights...next week - who knows? Nice poem indeed.
You are good. Glad I discovered you. Powerful words, for certain.
Oooh, I love this! Nice writing. :-)
fairy tale, yet very gentle and hopeful,
lovely poem!
Been there - done that!
The ravens finally got me
So I had to do what your sidebar suggests -
Recover or die!
Back to being a Scarecrow!
I think many of us can get in line with this one ... I can so relate.
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