Help rank my 2090 four line poems by contributing your votes to a Ladder. (see Ladder)


There the wind has never seasons.
And the sun is gold from proud.
Tears grow from guarded reasons.
Where feel torns are allowed.
I'm just stirring in some bills to pay.
And auditions, "for You'll get Apple-Scoop".
You have chosen wisely dear.
Casting Call Distance "To the Caribbean-Soup".

What do you think?
Poem one is best    Poem two is best