I weave you into my poetry.
Your thoughts entwine with mine
Creating a tapestry of old ideas
Presented in the freshness of new love.
You are there in the lines
Even when you cannot see it.
You are the fire that may dance
Or ebb away to embers in my mind's eye.
You remain in my art
Whether I am content or irate,
Confused or disillusioned,
Elated or contemplating walking away.
I always stay.
You never change.
It may be your constancy
That allows me to range free
In the wilderness of our garden.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed this much, young lady...Your structural movement is virtually flawless compliments of crisp, tight linage that wraps from one line to the next mellifluously...Stellar crafting ~FjR~
Thank you very much for this wonderful compliment!