PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Wither way

Down by the lake

Sand of Summer

Easy Sunday treat

Greater sound

Gather round

The echoes of

Just catch your face

I fold and take 

My last embrace

I hoped you might get out

Then went on my way

Bow I tow the

Forward shout

Far as I could get it out

You would never

Recognize

And I could not recall

Iv'e forgotten all 

The shamefull bits