A Tale of The Trade The nights are beautiful. I still find wonder around every corner after two years of planting myself here. It was getting late. Polishing off the last of my whiskey neat I grabbed her hand and moved towards the door. Amidst the smoky dancing bodies; the whine and sway of the band is always welcomed but it was time to call it a night. Leaving the cool rhythm, a warm silence swept over us. The wine-colored text above, proudly displayed The Rosewood Café against white stucco. The instruments were played better than ever tonight. Their undeniable noise still filled my ears. The call of the sea and jazz have to be the purest sounds in all theA Tale of The Trade by ~Cleansteve
Diver Down The gear has been loadedDiver Down by ~Cleansteve
Rations packed
Refueling has been done
King Fishers floated
Air tanks latched
Steer towards the rising sun
This was our ritual, this was our fun
Unlike the others,
this song remained to be sung
The rhythm strong, as the current lapped
Beneath the fronds and dripping sap
We rode hard and we rode fast
Our vessel of white from stern to bow to mast
Humor the rumor,
The dreadlocked man of the square spread
In the timbre of a worn baritone sax, he said
“Riches beyond the Atocha lie in the deep,
off Little Palm island just outside the reef
For me to reveal this, you must take a vow
Bewar
Tired 
Sta.sh
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I'll eat you up I love you so.
- KW, Where the Wild Things Are
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Check out on my Photography Gallery
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Visit my gallery: [link]
None of my work Should be copied or used in any way, unless you have permission by me and only me.
Watch me and ill watch you
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One who lives without love can never truly live... One who embraces love can never truly die... 'kiwi-damnation'
spilled wine
iampoetry
(ashley)
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Poetry is truly boundless.
nice gallery!