Love is a fickle star that lots
Pinch from the sky, then run like ghosts,
They suck its mighty, flimsy glare,
And let the shreds float in the gale…

Love’s in the petals of a bloom,
That can lift up a big balloon,
It’s in the clot that can’t disperse,
And leaves a cripple as its trace…

Some brag they know to read its clues,
But when come close they find the blues,
Some rinse their eyes and start to take
The byway this time to shun the snake…

But others claim: ” A word can’t hold,
What poets wrote on winter’s cold,
When sun has set and left a tear,
That crystallized, so cannot sear…!!”


 -imagini preluate de pe net-       „From I wish I could enjoy the Rain” -book”…-


6 gânduri despre “LOVE IS..

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