deepundergroundpoetry.com
The crying night
We are grateful for the
Beauty of life
That comes in the winter breeze
For the warmth in our hearts
In the fire coals rests her soul
The last time we met,
We touched
Our hands whispering
There she leaves
Through the door,
By the breeze
Into the crying night
Beauty of life
That comes in the winter breeze
For the warmth in our hearts
In the fire coals rests her soul
The last time we met,
We touched
Our hands whispering
There she leaves
Through the door,
By the breeze
Into the crying night
Published 22nd Aug 2013
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Anonymous
22nd Aug 2013 2:37pm
So beautiful but so sad. Very nice and gentle poem. :)
22nd Aug 2013 2:48pm
Thank you Madame
Your humble servant who is a poet
pours your red wine and a chokalat by the fire
Is this suitable to you?
Your humble servant who is a poet
pours your red wine and a chokalat by the fire
Is this suitable to you?
