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This room is bare,
And the night is cold,
Where far apart and I'm growing old,
But one day we'll meet again,
So then my love will whisper once more,
Because its you I adore
I think of you every night,
Holding on to me close and tight,
Love is only a feeling,
But to me it's a heeling
There is a way my little love,
To become my little dove,
It's not the outside that counts,
But the warmth of the inside
These words of love,
Are not some form of crush,
But there are the feelings,
That makes me go all blushes
28/11/05
Paul Prescott
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, February 01, 2010 |
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Poets
