Open Poetry #48 |
Southern hospitality |
EmmaRose Senior Member
since 2011-03-02
Posts 1376Midwest |
She fosters my birds when the winds claim my colors my purple obsession leaves a wreath for the mourning with the lure of sweet respite and perpetual promise she fosters my birds when the North guts its forests |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Yes indeed, when north guts, birds seek the comforts of the south. ~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~ |
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