..
The sky’s all tipsy-spritzered with rain, and I’ve
got something to say and only these three snowy
pages and a leaky cobalt pen. Is my two cents
worth anything these days? We go (lightning)
rounds, thunderclap trapped in ink and silence.
I’m scribbled, lost. Last call for sorrow, clouds.
..
A second offering for the post I’m hostin’ over at dVerse Poetics. Come play with me.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Excellent!!!
Love this section:
“I’ve
got something to say and only these three snowy
pages and a leaky cobalt pen. Is my two cents
worth anything these days? We go (lightning)
rounds, thunderclap trapped in ink”
Also, I’m picturing the three sheets as a threesome of ghosts, with one giving a talking-to to the others.
Kind of Harry Potter meets Three’s Company meets Threesome meets death.
You’re welcome.
We gotta throw in some Game of Thrones, too. Winter is coming…
That is such a good show. I’m so many seasons behind though.
Wow, lots and lots of imagery in this piece. You’ve used the mixology prompt to paint such a dynamic picture of a cold Winter’s day
I’m literally swooning here… sigh… gorgeous!!❤️
That’s the way to do it. Excellent.
I like how you went with sheets of paper..the poem is sad, real, as I read it…well done!
“Trapped in ink and silence” … Ah, I’ve been there! Great read.
“thunderclap trapped in ink and silence.
I’m scribbled, lost”
‘swoons’
Love this… I’m sure the cobalt ink on snow will not be lost…
A PeN
iS fiRe noW
An ‘liGhtEninG
chArge oF FeeLinG
SenSinG LiFE liGht
wiDe aWake sKeYes
coMe aLiVe
caNdle
flaMe
toRcH
neVer puT ouT..
Tree oF LiFE..:)
as always, De, tipsy with your words right now….
Oh, you touch all sorts of emotional chords here.