Terroir Terrors Tear Our Treasures

Glass of white sand used to hold a rose wine
Now's the time to do something about it

Wrath of gray god used to be well and fine
Now a two-string fiddle plays around it

Everything's tinted sick green and dull gold
While our shotguns sing out of tune

Nothing escapes the slow, sick, and the old
Be it youth, bold beauty, or boon

5 thoughts on “Terroir Terrors Tear Our Treasures”

charliezero1.wordpress.com says:

The title of gold and everything in this poem rings a creative spark of magic and visuals of stunning well written piece. 🙂

LikeLiked by 1 person

July 26, 2017 at 4:49 pm Reply
1. jdoublep says:
  
  Thanks, C0!
  
  LikeLiked by 1 person
  
  July 26, 2017 at 4:51 pm Reply
  1. charliezero1.wordpress.com says:
    
    You welcome Jason. I’m going to watch ‘Twin Peaks’ today. So, tomorrow I will call you so we can talk. 🙂
    
    LikeLiked by 1 person
    
    July 26, 2017 at 4:52 pm Reply
    1. jdoublep says:
      
      Perfect . It’s a doozy.
      
      LikeLiked by 1 person
      
      July 26, 2017 at 4:53 pm Reply
      1. charliezero1.wordpress.com says:
        
        Awesome! And speaking of doozy, I’m thinking of getting buzzed today with a beer. hahahahaha!!! Just kidding…I don’t drink. 🙂
        
        LikeLiked by 1 person
        
        July 26, 2017 at 4:54 pm Reply

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