A Fistful of Poetry
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
36K
It’s the space
you leave behind
that defines.
It’s the face
I conjure up snow blind
that draws my lines.
It’s the secret place
I visit in my mind,
time after time.
It’s a futile race
to try and find
some rhyme or reason
to this insane love of mine.
2 comments:
Anonymous
3:14 PM
Love is in the air!
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Frank Partisan
11:33 PM
Very well done as usual.
Regards,
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Love is in the air!
ReplyDeleteVery well done as usual.
ReplyDeleteRegards,