apples
sitting on the white fence
red and brown
ripe and rotten
stems from seeds
of planted men
set in rows
the good school boy
Uncle Tomahawk
driving the Winnebago toward
Crazy Horse mountain
a longer road than our word
for American pie
41 letters long
one little two little three…
I am so glad that I clicked on this poem. I not only love the way you write but I am impressed with your bio page. You are a very talented person. I shall read more of your work.
Much peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
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Be always safe,
Karen
Much peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"