Were-with-all (poem)

A trip, a realm, a parallel dimension.
Climb up east, traverse in west,
A monkey and a vixen.
The werewolf prowls, yet never scowls his prey,
instead they scope giant’s faces, moonlit or in day.
Beauty and beast, beast of beauty; strong compassionate throng.
Their skipping ascension without reprehension: sure as day is long.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s