The heart it yearns,
The soul it cleanses,
Love it burns,
The senses.
Find it here,
Flaunt it there,
We are we're,
A kind of pair.
Hitched like a lock,
A coo coo clock,
And beating, like the seasons,
Of morning times reasons.
The heart it yearns,
The soul it cleanses,
Love it burns,
The senses.
Find it here,
Flaunt it there,
We are we're,
A kind of pair.
Hitched like a lock,
A coo coo clock,
And beating, like the seasons,
Of morning times reasons.
Offline)
Comments2
There seems to be unity in this poem of chained togetherness. Nice
A very interesting prognosis. I would probably agree. Lol. Ty for your comment.
Love it
Thanks. 🙂
You're welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.