Inkwell Spills Poem by Frances M

Frances M

Frances M

Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents

Inkwell Spills



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 OF THE POEM
Emily Oldham 14 September 2008

Nice... inkwells can be tears, real inkwells, rivers or anything. I love it, thanks

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Frances M

Frances M

Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents
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