Poetry to the power of three,
the sun will rise and fall to thee
weaned on folk tales, and oral tradition
soil rich from witch burnings, of old superstition
we shelter beneath the gables and decaying wood
rearing words for tomorrow, so we be better understood.
© Darius the Mate
Photo prompt, written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.
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2 thoughts on “Word Farm”
“soil rich from witch burnings”
*hides under a table*
This is short and ideal to the image, Darius.
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❤️❤️ Thank you 😊