Thursday, 15 March 2018


wild poem 

one morning the mist came up from the dark dark
forist. The wind growled. The forest was wild. the  creachers   busting down from the trees. The moon was full. The wolfs wore howling from the mountains. The was rumbling from the wolfs. The surf was punching  on the rocks.               

1 comment:

  1. there is lot's of detail put into your writing but before you rite the waves punching on the rocks it didn't really make that much sence and I liked how you said the creatures busting down in the trees and the wolfs howling from the mountains next time if you're supposed to make it a little longer

    ReplyDelete