How often my love Have These hands Clasped your Stone lips In Falling rain In this place were People do not speak Great sadness embrace us How often my love Have Wooden teeth Crushed Bones Painted fingers In A stone mouth On this island of love People cannot marry Great sadness surrounds us As my stone lips Kiss
Tinka, this is a very elegant, well-written composition, which highlights the sadness one often finds when searching for ones “paradise island.” Thanks for sharing it. Take good care and be well.
This is one of your best ever Tinka, so tantalizingly pure and bittersweet it tugs at both sides of the heart at once. I love this one I truly do. Great work Tinka.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
My book of poetry is being redone by me, I have a beautiful cover designed and the book will have a few more than 200 poems in it. I am going to have it printed on demand here in Canada. When it is done I will let you know when it is done and if anyo
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
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(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in america, karen lynn in texas. :D
BTWnosheisnotbutenglandarethrashingtheaussiesgoodandpropperlike...
Stunning write Tink!
Lisa
Susan
Nice work Stoney
love and peace, Carole
x0x0x0x0x
"oh, but it were not so..."
lost love...an island all it's own
where a heart has turned to stone
TX
Love,
Eileen
my dear.
nicely concieved and
realized with
passion
the effect is stunning
good write
john+
Felix