Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
The Tempest
my eye
is caught by a photograph
my ear
records a voiceless cry
whispering brilliant streaks
tiny hairs all quivering on
my skin
raindrops pelting
crystal teeth glaring
tearing away
my tongue
forms a quiet reply
my nose
wiggling at a brooding sky
.
.
.
poem
by
Frederick Kesner
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black