She calls me outside,
cloak the waiting soul.
The long night begins,
a fluttering of love –
of the rarest species.
The softness of her lips,
so close….
Enough to satisfy,
a workers hunger –
once again.
The fullness of September
A Wandering Poet
As I walk around I like to record what I experience. Through poetry, ideas and thoughts I hope I can share some of these experiences with you.
A Wandering Poet 