The clouds loll overhead
In lazy, lilting billows
An angel’s cotton bed
A dream’s ceiling of pillows
And that’s why writers write
On overcast days like this
Heaven cannot alight
And muses stay to console and kiss
Enjoy my writing? Buy me a coffee š
Photo by eberhard š grossgasteiger on Unsplash
Welcome to my mind. Watch the first step, it's a doozy.
Know ye that theĀ LordĀ he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. -Psalms 100:3
"I saw the Angel in the marble, and carved until I set him free"
Born in Poland | Lives in Texas Now | Hype
Speculative fiction book reviews and more!
December Rose 
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