MARIE CLAIN Poems

To be like the assorted flower,
Waiting for the first drops of rain

To be like the pale color fish,
...

It's funny when sadness is my perfume
The small leaf jigged by the wind
Waved me to play with her
...

My smile misses you
My words miss you
My intelligence misses you
My enthusiasm misses you
...

This morning in the small motorized coach
My song of the summer of my 30 years
Had gone with her.
Like a shooting star leaving behind her
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The love of swans is like the sweetness of the rain
Clear and clear as the first morning dew

The love of the swans is adorned with cries of the sun shining every second
...

You are the card of my first senses, I am going to explore the corners of your glamorous woods

To you the small mount aquiline
Who felt the first perfumes of my source of life, my mother
...

I feel vibrate the impulses of my heart

In my fingers so shy and jovial and hot
...

My husband of the blooming woods. 🌲🌲

You the lawyer of our thousand moons flowers you are
...

I captured with me the lenses of my eyes
More than an infinite number of souls

Dancing, singing, rolling souls, fixing
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If your soul is a mountain
And your eyes his sun
Nothing will obscure it by inappropriate senses
...