When the
wind blew,
I felt you
standing upon
the mirage
of my
broken heart.
Desert,
yes, just a desert
I am,
without you
my love!
Cactus,
an emblem
of my hope.
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Good job, my friend.
Bobbi
My hubbytold me he thought he married a beautiful flower....but I turned out to be more like a cactus!!
But that made me feel proud knowing the bad things in life made me stronger!!
Love Tinka
A sad poem from the heart.
The cactus survives because it is self sufficient. From within itself it finds the strength to go on.
a barren desert very intense painful poem Bhuwan!
Good to see you!;-)
Love,
Eileen^