As they drift along the river

Content to float along

Dreaming of more tomorrows

Where they would dance to their own song

She looks to him with love and wonder

Would give a penny for his thoughts

A vision in her yellow dress

Like the sunshine high above them

Kissing rolling clouds

As her hand came to rest

Upon his thigh

His gaze is drawn from the script he’s reading

Telling tales of misery and drought

The blood red of her nails assaults him

With wanton longing

Of what may come

Upon the shore.


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Wendy Pratt

Poet, Author, Editor, Facilitator

Inking Prose & Poetry

The Art of Prose and Poetry

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