47th Weekly Poetry Contest winner: A Crab Scuttles Across The Velvety Mustard Sand, And Disappears Into The Sea Foam
by skylarlynch
Upon the golden eve at morn
A sailor floats upon the shore
And eagle's beak do burn the sun
Where phoenix feathers sprout
And wave upon a frothy wave
Do scuttle to and fro
And midnight rock do hold acrock
Where cocker shells may grow