The Poetry of Primadonna Angela

Primadonna Angela


Journey

A frozen touch of Fear
strangles me
Wading to arcane realms
I shudder vehemently
Lost. Lost. Sandstorm ahead--
I can't see.
I cry, I whirl, I protest
loud and clear
Then I find out I'm not alone
You come and rest your hand
on my shoulder
The violent wind warbles,
defeated
This will be a memorable journey.

(10-03-1999)