burnt toast persists
a gift from those wee
those best unseen
lingering at the shadow
i have not the dream
to share that their gift
is welcome not in these
grey hours kissed
with gold
Tag: new folklore
burnt toast
nightmare fuel
Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash grundylocks and grimley
gone running through the green
chasing after unicorns in
the backyard of childhood dreams
waving with their hacksaws
and their axes and their gonnes
grind a horn to tincture, say they
to drink to gruesome songswoodenhead
Photo by Alberto Arroyo on Unsplash oh, woodenhead
come in from the rain
quit your thefts
seeking a beauty
outside for a one
that is within
all crows make argue
for your eyes—
you do not use them
anyway, they say
instead, my woodenhead
you are a' thieving out
in the pouring rain
