The follicles of natures chilled tears float and dance towards the lonely ground.
The frozen ballerinas act milquetoast towards others, though perhaps if provoked, the anger of a storm could flood the already filled air.
This frosted night is forever grateful.
A simple covering of the darkened grass.
Peaceful songs conduct the dancers.
A frosted sway in rhythm with the ever changing winds.
YOU ARE READING
Chillin' with the poems
PoetryThis is some silly and random poems/stories which I create:)