the fountains are not ours
we borrow the forests
love is the voice of them all
tides croon with silver moonlight
your kiss is delicious soul
gold chain on your ankle
her nipples of rain
revenge is gone
Past lovers branches in the fire
Existence washed
blue rocks in the stream
a red bird on the bough
purpose like turquoise earrings
bring your easel out
wood floors swept in sun
screens filled like sails
dark roast coffee
flowered dress
praise
poetry
acoustic guitar
vulnerability
Simon and Garfunkel's second album
Good morning my darling
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem