Array ( [sid] => 183521 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Her Lot [time] => 2016-09-08 18:13:21 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A distinction between the two cannot be made
In deciphering the shadowy glow, the nature of her shade
Cast by only her, a delicate yet alluring prodding
Led by her sparkling fingers amidst a gentle nodding.
For only she knows which way to go,
As trees sway in kind, the wind begins to blow.
While howling is the wolf at the moon,
A beast inside, I too howl in tune.
A distinction yet cannot be made
The lots of her eyes, how hauntingly they/'/ve stared. Her [comments] => 3 [counter] => 321 [topic] => 73 [informant] => Flex4life13 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Her Lot


Her Lot
Date: Thursday, 8th September 2016 @ 06:13:21 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Flex4life13
A distinction between the two cannot be made
In deciphering the shadowy glow, the nature of her shade
Cast by only her, a delicate yet alluring prodding
Led by her sparkling fingers amidst a gentle nodding.
For only she knows which way to go,
As trees sway in kind, the wind begins to blow.
While howling is the wolf at the moon,
A beast inside, I too howl in tune.
A distinction yet cannot be made
The lots of her eyes, how hauntingly they/'/ve stared. Her

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