- Non-Erotic Poetry
- November
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We dream of castles in the air
the while we trod on fallen leaves.
Brown whitens on the snowshoe hare.
The creeping thyme no longer creeps.
The while we trod on fallen leaves
as does the banded wooly bear,
the creeping thyme no longer creeps.
The tiger moth has disappeared.
As does the banded wooly bear,
the field mice soon repair to sleep.
The tiger moth has disappeared,
and peeper frogs no longer peep.
The field mice soon repair to sleep.
The only green's the balsam fir,
and peeper frogs no longer peep.
A stone cold hail will soon appear.
The only green's the balsam fir.
The field mice soon repair to sleep.
The creeping time no longer creeps.
We dream of castles in the air.
- COMMENTS
tazz317over 9 years agoand all Gods creatures follow suit. TK U MLJ LV NV
Ashesh9over 9 years ago......sleep .......peep .........creeps ........leaves ......nice sonics here , GM .
