When writers collide

Your words flow like rain on bright summer flowers

Scent permeates sense under stooping orange bowers

My reply echoes pain while twin souls corrode

Stumbling upwards slowly on a bleak stony road

 

Pan flits like a paper shadow

And the girl looks up to the sparkling stars

Run, Skip, Dance, Hide

This is what happens when writers collide

 

Your sky shimmers grey over Hanover Street

Thursday traffic calms slowly amid busying feet

My coffee blackens taste buds in a time out of mind

Remembering what is precious from a world left behind

 

Pan flits like a paper shadow

And the girl looks up to the sparkling stars

Run, Skip, Dance, Hide

This is what happens when writers collide

 

Your eyes shine brightly above a smoking smile

Honesty tempts readers to bathe in your words for a while

My study is a sanctuary as the heat pipes just cough

Writing resurrects hope when the soul’s had enough

 

Pan flits like a paper shadow

And the girl looks up to the sparkling stars

Run, Skip, Dance, Hide

This is what happens when writers collide