(I don't know where this came from, but I'm always moved by a certain sadness that seems to be the undercurrent of romantic love)
"only", the tome reads
from whomever left it
really,
or only for that who,
the carver left it for,
it reads, "don't worry,
just love these, my leaves,
they've fallen from my tree,
so please, love them,
love them, please, love them
...... for me...?"
the old man humms
praying soft
for the river
to come soon, the swell's boon
is frayed
'cause the Giver
from the sky
cannot cry
anymore,
She feels sore
in Her eyes,
but She trys,
so let us try too, sinner.....
I'll give you
what the tome reads, only
for you
and me,
set it
only for us
two, we won't let it be
or ever die,
we'll fly
up to inspire
Her eyes
the fire behind
Her worn lines
will be so revised,
and reborn
because of
two sinner's lives...
love binds me to my
kindred-
sinner, fly
me home..
fly us home, me and my endeared one,
Worthy of several reads. I see the desperation and need in the sharing and grasping of bits an pieces of a larger spectrum. You've go my head spinning! Excellent piece, Rose. :-))
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Thanks! for sharing your heart Openly!
WArmly, WArrior PURPLE Lady Sheeeoox
nice work.....Art Sun...
Be safe,
Karen
Carmen
This is a sublime composition... "Kindred Sinner" flows and leaves scents of wonders.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
me home..
fly us home, me and my endeared one.....
Quite a captivating piece, Rose.