Like silken hair
with sparkles
in the light of
glow-worms.
Your thoughts
and heartbeats
in the darkness
of my soul.
Crewcut of
poison ivy,
next to
the juniper.
Refreshingly
not dead as yet
but slightly mossy,
staleness of age.
When moon and stars
have taken leave
just once
before I go
I will be with them,
the whole ungodly lot,
playing on swings
and teeter-totters
yes, with the best
of them.
This gives me the creeps. I like you better when you are funny...or sweet, as in the poem about your dog. What kind of mood has come over you? Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Chilly creepy feel...~shivering~ Good write!