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Love?

She loves me, she loves me not,
As some flowers grow, some would rot.
Budding scent of sweet embrace,
Weaved about enchanting space.
Softly calling words of bliss,
Blooming bright go not amiss.

End.

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Comments


  • SugarCandyKittyKat
    April 12, 2007
    Edit | Reply

    Dang!!!

    This piece sounded like the "olden" times...so sweet...


  • Goodolenad
    March 26, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    ah, you're so poetic. you've taken a legendary rhyme and put your own twist on i t. i wouldn't expect anything less from you.

    wonderful. i've missed reading your pieces.