Frances May

Rookie (1991 / Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents)

Inkwell Spills - Poem by Frances May

Inkwell
spills
on
the frills
of my frock
drip
drip
drip
blackened sock.

Inkwell
spills
over
the lines
of my sonnet
drip
drip
drip
blackened bonnet.

Out into the rain
breathe in the air.
Ocean spray on my face
Wild wind in my hair.
I climb
I canter
over mountains
and hills
while
drip
drip
drip
the Inkwell spills


Comments about Inkwell Spills by Frances May

  • Rookie - 3 Points Emily Oldham (9/14/2008 12:51:00 PM)

    Nice... inkwells can be tears, real inkwells, rivers or anything. I love it, thanks (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 29, 2008

Poem Edited: Monday, July 7, 2008


[Hata Bildir]