True Spin
While tracing a home by charcoal
on a white paper, I hear,
a word comes from the wolf.
A fat was being pumped
into the face of a tryant to inflate
him into a giant.
Butterflies were undulating with
excitement in an inchoate garden.
Fidelity was going down and graves
had no skeletons.
From the eyes of a lamb you pick
up a necklace to weave a snare trap.
Because I would not come back again.
You catch the dust in chimes.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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Also see the following:
- quotes about sheep
- quotes about tomb
- quotes about paper
- quotes about gardens
- quotes about words
- quotes about white
- quotes about home
- quotes about eyes
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