MetaLove
My Loves look at me longinglyHer Kiss deep as a Metaphor
She speaks of that what used to be
What was and is not anymore
We parse the distance light as thought
While Dark Days Drive our hearts in rain, in ice,
My Love Once Was, were we for nought?
Mouths or moths, fluttering in a vice.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 317 times
Written on 2017-08-19 at 08:26
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email Print text
|
F.i.in.e Moods |
| Texts |
 by Chaucer Whethers Latest textsOf One or TwoA Yeats Classic -Second Coming A Hard Winter Snow Truth is Naked Knows Where My favoritesRumblingYou Long Legged Lady Masterpiece |
Increase font
Decrease