Pardon My Situation Poem by Pasquale DiMeola
Pardon My Situation
My wealth is like the splashing tide
It comes and goes to mind
A pauper's donkey I bestride
On top the dreams that bind
With empty pockets inside out
A heart of purest gold
My love will light your darkest doubt
Until your will unfolds
No castles are within my lot
Perhaps a county fair
A crown of jewels I haven't got
Sit in my peacock chair.
Saturday, September 23, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: love and dreams
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5/10/2024 3:32:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
