He wraps up prayers into clay,
With gifts of weeds and hay,
It’s neither a figure,
Nor a statue to say
Yet she preserves it
Preserves it all day,
Tenderly,
Drenching it in adorning shower
Forlorn souvenir-
The wild flower!
The obsession in his face,
Lovelorn,
Dancing to the rhythm she plays,
And she dances along,
Enhancing each verse of the song
And she smiles,
When he asks her to fall in love,
Sealed up is that heart,
pitiful, he’s trying to rob
Funny how he has her,
Without having her,
And comical,
How she loves him
Without falling in love
And he dreams of shaping her,
Forgetting dreams,
He lives for
While she wishes, the wish
She can’t even utter
Oh so ironic,
Soaked in disgrace shower,
Forlorn souvenir -
The wild flower!
- Author: sarah (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: November 18th, 2011 08:27
- Category: Love
- Views: 36
Comments1
its a really nice rhythmic work
well done
you have good sense of making such words
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