In watery ways
And watery days
I yearned for the sun
Too precious to prays
Ah, the sunlight
And sunlit days
Where the 'butter' flies
And true life plays
Blindly seeing
Misbelieving
Not pretentious
Yet always fleeing
Was it not for my blindness
I would never have met its gaze
Was it not for my blindness I would never have met its gaze .....................a bit of a twist It seems to me.....perhaps you can explain......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this a lot, well written sonnet, thanks 10 Lynda xx