Brutkey

A poem in the style of a sonnet, that I have called: The Treasure, inspired by the mastoprompt for the 10th October 2025, Variable Aching trees creak together in the wind Festooned between them hang garlands and vines The green hammock bobs slowly like a spring Sleepy hand holds empty bottle of wine The warm air carries sounds off the seashore A percussion gently brushing the stones Variable slaps on water from oars A smiling fisherman rows his way home Dancing sprites leap from the crackling embers Pirouetting up in light from the moon To be here in this moments the treasure We can all have a piece of this fortune Relax and be at peace with the world now Swinging on the wind, I close my eyes - Ciao
🏷🏷️ ID
afqdbc2h4dw5070f
📛📛 Name
69f9ce358986848c.png
📆📆 Created At
2025-12-01T07:04:20.441Z
🐱🐱 Uploaded By
ab85vmijbnn27fin
💱💱 Type
image/png
🌡🌡️ Size
0
⛓⛓️ MD5
bd0e79ee86b40f9371b98d8944b723f2
📜📜 Alt Text / Comment
A poem in the style of a sonnet, that I have called: The Treasure, inspired by the mastoprompt for the 10th October 2025, Variable Aching trees creak together in the wind Festooned between them hang garlands and vines The green hammock bobs slowly like a spring Sleepy hand holds empty bottle of wine The warm air carries sounds off the seashore A percussion gently brushing the stones Variable slaps on water from oars A smiling fisherman rows his way home Dancing sprites leap from the crackling embers Pirouetting up in light from the moon To be here in this moments the treasure We can all have a piece of this fortune Relax and be at peace with the world now Swinging on the wind, I close my eyes - Ciao
🗒🗒️ Attached To
/notes/adow6anc4dw5070h