I Write Poetry

My favorite Things.

We've both made some bad calls
Had experiences all too
same-
Excuse me, love
if leaving the room
Brushed you
Eye to Eye
Passed
Not wanting more of the
Name;
Pride's but a crinoline
To a bow-
Favor in a man's Grave;
Taken as a Gentle Soul
Where a truth does Lay-
Sleeping in the Laughter
If not buried by her Lace.

The melody does twirl us
But round n'round
Perplexed
And awe amazed-
His presence enchanting
His Truth suited;
Approached for the Day.