Bozhidar Pangelov

Rookie - 188 Points (23.10.1959 / Bulgaria, Sofia)

Our Love Isn'T At Ease - Poem by Bozhidar Pangelov

Our love isn't at ease,
just like the wind in white acacias
and like a bead on child's hand,
it's not at ease.
In it they miss - wonderlands,
delights, flame and solace.
And none of us will call it my own
before it passes us on slightly.
And it will stay somewhere - far away,
unapproachable, uneasy.
And yellow leaves will whisper in snows.

Our love isn't at ease.
It isn't at ease.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 24, 2014

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