Potery stories, books, poems, and more
potery, western, autumn, belief, childs, dean, fiction, fraser, hunor, others, phillips, poems, relgion
I was crossing the prairie after a rain storm, The wall cloud now lay in my fore. The hail on the highway now melted, The battered rangeland told the score. A rest stop showed on my right, I braked the car into the drive, Stepping out I smelled
Her face carried such a scowl, One hundred pounds of evil mean. My six-four frame felt fear, my gills turned two shades green. Hands at her waist, were fisted. A five foot stance of raging Hell. This woman sure looked mad, A fury, I could tell.
The coyotes howls were lonely, as they searched for their loves in the night. The stars blanketed the sky, in a field of darkness, they lay bright. I sat by the campfire, It’s glowing embers, a crimson red.
One of my first poems I wrote, just recently found it in amongst alot of my junk i was going through, So I kind of rescued it. :) and now here it is resurrected.