She Poem by Thomas Plotz
She
She used to be
The one I see,
As we rise, with the morning light;
Crisp air, smell of pine, and cedar
In this secluded spot;
She used to be
The one I see,
In this enchanted town;
She used to be
The one I see,
When the Moon raised at night,
Casting a soften glow,
Of shadows
She used to be…
T. Plotz
7 DEC 2016
For Beth, Happy Birthday
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: greetings,love and life
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5/20/2024 1:03:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
