I wrote this rhyme a few nights ago when I couldn't sleep. I think it's pretty lame, but I wanted to publish it because I'm tired of the little orange word "draft" appearing whenever I go to write a new post.
___
Pretty little night owl, tucked away for bed
The moonlight eve is faded, the starlight sky dead
The sleepy little village, in oblivion tonight
But pretty little night owl, awake at midnight
___
You know, it's second---more like third---hand poetry. Nothing more and more than less. The same goes for the following
___
Not by my watch
Not near enough
Not in the time
That it takes to stop
The time we have
It'll be the end
By this I know
You'll be my friend
____
I really don't remember writing that one. I just found a draft with nothing but the above looking blankly at me.
...Whah??
2 comments:
Yep, know that feeling. I hate that flashing Orange draft word. More than half of the stuff I have is just that....A draft.
And then I think I should clear it out, and find stuff I, for the life of me, couldn't remember ever writing.
But these deserved to be published. All your work does. Cause its great.
Lauricia:
Now now, don't let my head get too big here. :P
Clair:
Oh thanks!! I love some of the poetry that you've published on your blog, so it means a ton to here that you like to read mine. :)
Thou hast made my day. :D
Post a Comment