Without even a seed of reason,
you plough the land of my soul
to bloom flowers in my heart.
Cracking up, the buds glow
in quietude, tearing morning dews,
nourished by your touch.
In bouquets the flowers flow
on streams of your memories,
glittery and ever enticing.
P.S.: This is a second version of an original poem I wrote earlier here. I renamed it obviously, but what's in a name?
No comments:
Post a Comment