The sun is up
The night is torn
I grab a cup
and meet the morn
Another day jumps up beneath my feet
I
I have touched the softness of your face
with hand and with thought
how gentle love is
I have drawn the sweetness of your perfume
deep inside of myself
filling my every corner
One does not fall in love
love never makes one stumble
it reaches
beckons
whispers
touches where hands can not
yet one must prepare
for love not unlike life
is bound by seasons
how precious then............is love?
Morning and I
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A place for new members to post their poetry so we may get to know them and their poetry better. NO erotica.
Autoprune: 12-months
A place for new members to post their poetry so we may get to know them and their poetry better. NO erotica.
Autoprune: 12-months
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