Melting Moments
Scrittura Saturday prompt: power of an opening question
Trampling through the long nettles, grassy green is that you I see? Shaped apple red delicious huggy tightly I leap forward making flatland out of meadow.
Up the bog she sits the witch of the gables gabbling gribble grub gob shut tight no speak forth cat black as tar meows melancholy mews.
Your eyes gleam sparkling like gems garnet haunting me I lie sleepless virginal wet with lust wanting waning wooing in thought is that you I see?
She flew by on her broomstick tonight hat spiked spearing ahead strong yet somehow vulnerable if it were not with puss valiantly proud on her end soaring through the stars a meteorite bypasses by a second. She’s flying for fright forthright framed forever flammed.
Back in the forest an angel tells me you were here. Kiss me now Horatio and my lips will be forever sealed. Through the stinging nettles I sense a-following shadow coming opening its arms. Is that you I see?
