Feste's Lute

Scribbles & Sketches of the Unspeakable

tiny fingers tangle pressing
spark my soul, arc tracing lines.
the laughter in her warm, soft face
speaks a silent choice to mine.

Enter your comment here...

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

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

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

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

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

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: