My poetry is written in code and only my Easy Lover can crack it.
I await you in my misty solitude, will you seek me to claim yore prize?
Can you read between the lines and unmask my disguise?
If you are the one I truly seek, you will solve my coded verse,
My love is just below the surface, though quite immersed.
I shall not confess, but you will know,
That my bubbling passion smolders, because I want you so.
I am smitten and bewitched by your spell,
You are the one that enchants me, but your name I won't tell.
If you are the one, you will know,
You will know without a doubt, that I love you so.
My circle of life has gathered you in,
We share affection and we call each other friend.
I adore you, you own my heart,
I suffer because we must remain apart.
Where will this love for you lead?
Are you the one that will fulfill my need?
Or will my love lay fallow and untried,
I will let tomorrow and fate decide.
Hmnnn Did you write this before or after reading my latest posting of "Between The Lines" for we seem to be on the same railway track of thought today SC...that is a good thing.
Hugs
Fee
Dear SC, he was heard saying of you being the little oasis in is enormous dry and barren life landscape, and like the saguaro cactus with pleading arms which couldn't move towards the fertile haven, nor the oasis could move towards the pleading arms without running into the sands before reaching her destiny.
The rose bud of May couldn't ever be caressed by one autumn leaf.
So he said, sorry.
Georg
SC - Here in Tenerife, the Ministry of Mental Health banned the reading of all seductive poetry until after teatime, so i am now in trouble with THE LAW! I must get a cuppa - this was a good'n amongst many, well written SC - Nicky x
Psychic wiccan Deja Hamilton pulls shapeshifter Lincoln McCabe from the lake, and the two form an alliance against the covetous older brother who wants Lincoln dead.
Love Tinka
Everyone is special in their Own way and how they inspire, sure is true~!
WArmly, Warrior Lady Purple Sheeeoox
Ann
stan
Hugs......
Hugs
Fee
The rose bud of May couldn't ever be caressed by one autumn leaf.
So he said, sorry.
Georg