JABBERWOCKY
The blank writer
A page stares at her
She pins her frowns and sighs
To a wandering horse
Running wild and free
Carrying all her words
In syllables
To the gallop of hoofs
Whose rhythm
Canters in the morning dew
To rise with whinnying breath
In the meadows
Laced with sweet wildflowers
Patterning a grassy mound
Unkempt
For such as meadows are
To run wild and free
Wind blown and yielding
And so it was:
Three friends they sat
With coffee and with tea
And sort to spend in jabberwocky
The animal, each would want to be.
JABBERWOCKY © gillena cox 2015
You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites ( musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #33, ❧✿❧ whats your mood today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites
Linking to
The Tuesday Platform its open mic
