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| >> Campfire Creative >> Poetry >> Arts >> ID #739022 |   |
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[Introduction]
Okay I leave everything open to editing Mark cause ... well cause its my campfire and I say so. I hope you know what you are getting into Sweetie  Let the games begin! |
 Mark C Bradley  The waves crash along the beach and buried in the silver sand a empty bottle just out of reach and I extend my shaking hand The bottle feels an icy cold I turn it round and look inside to see what contents it may hold It must have come in with the tide Stormy Lady Its legend long and untold Did it possess a lovers note For who's souls were sold Throwing from the boat A treasure map for me left by a dying ship hand traveling across the sea Riches on a faraway land Mark C Bradley I couldn't see through the glass for the bottle wasn't clear I thought I could smell of sassafras with the slight hint of beer As I pulled the cork from the top large dark clouds began to form but before I could make it stop I realized I'd unleashed a storm © Copyright 2003 Mark C Bradley, Stormy Lady, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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