Saturday, April 02, 2005

The Golden Child

Crimson Blue...Golden Child float a while....
Dream my eyes....
Raging nights with starry skies through the skinny alley leads you to the Dragon's rye....

2 comments:

Rathish said...

There's an inherent rhythm, a balance, that make words into a beautiful line. These lines have it :)

Anonymous said...

do you write poetry? u just did!