At the top of my farm
Next to the gate...

Long Winter nights
Hunched over ma kerosene heater...

My view
Earthy tones...

The intercom blared "Ladies and gentlemen...
only those passengers seated in rows 15 - 30 are...

It was a scruffy day
The sun full of blisters...

Tongues of fire lick
air in a dimly lit room...

Winifred Montague
what a delicious darling she is...

Outside my kitchen window
lies a patch of dirt...

Version 1...

Blasted
Mizzen mast nor portal...

Be it childish scribbling
Crafted, stylized or mere black ink...

Can I visualize for you?
Will my words seemingly dance off the page...