Strong Gust of Wind


A call from afar

Foreboding design

Intuit a castle’s 

Exotic design

The gates slightly open

A gosling of gold

The oak tree assembled

Yet still, feel the cold.

A strange dog awander 

No, that word is not real.

A home painted mustard

A pumpkin concealed.

Hush, my sweet child

A sense of deviation

Behaviors, consumers

An aching sensation.

The sweet taste of honey

The smell of blue paint

The wind through a field

Will show no restraint.


About Miranda S. Wrightz

I breath one breath at a time, like a normal mermaid.

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