by Joyanne O'Donnell
The soft prancing
of lighted crystals
Were the prism sun,
the sea-poured blue
dreams of destiny
Before your goals
have achieved
the mice have
deceived
warm sun's soul
cat roams
fast footprints run
with the moons quake
and the sun that scolds.
From:
JoyAnne O'Donnell
Copyright ©:
JoyAnne O'Donnell
Last updated August 17, 2011