by elo69santa cruz, California, USA
May 2013 507 Views 7 comments
no title
lonely as the wind she sung
while petals petals from her hand were strung
voices in a dream they say
never seem to fade away
memory's made of love
those now left to walk above
what then left of day
for all been made of clay
my Goddess a summer night
eternal as the moon pure light
while petals petals from her hand were strung
voices in a dream they say
never seem to fade away
memory's made of love
those now left to walk above
what then left of day
for all been made of clay
my Goddess a summer night
eternal as the moon pure light
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2013
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Comments (7)
Maybe if you read over your work, say, a thousand times the title will drop into your lap, if not before.
Respect R.