Winterscore ©
Monday, January 17, 2011
Arrive with me, converse
Arrive with me, converse
The gentle power of our words
Wings have crossed the oceans
On the gentle powered birds
Ask me not to speak
And I will kiss your lips
And converse to you by touch
Like tired birds that rest on ships
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment