Treasure Island

Danielle Mari Nidea


Tropical Winter


The winds create an epitaph where
Bees take cover and ants prepare;
The sky creates a colorful block
To where the shadows break the clock.

The babies cry while heaven leaks,
Wanting icy creamy peaks
And fire-eating wizard men
That make all glad right after ten.

Destruction marks the starting point
To which the children's souls anoint;
The winds create a legacy
Of saving all from agony.

Submitted: Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, November 20, 2013

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