Submissions by Weenicorn

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Nothing quite matches her beautiful eyes,
the bright blue skies,
the beaming cries that follow my beauty
throughout her days.

She healed my wounds,
my woeful pain,
without one whiff of what I was.

I like the way the precipice pets her pits
and love the way it lights her lips.

Gone. The crown once on her head,
her heart, has herby slung its hook; depart.
The searing loss of love laments,
lacking luster, luring gents.

Now my gracious hummingbird is running blurred
amid the cataclysm of that cunning...