Dark Zinfandel, dripping exotic notes sweet of your nectar, my lips parched by the winds in the fields of your inferno's ecstasy for I am your magician dipping into your flute dark Zinfandel, dripping exotic notes
As I listen to the music on the radio, My mind wonder to what we had yesterday. The songs we would sing together and for each other, The walks in the park, Hand in hand Paying no attention to the smiling people passing by. The conversations we never wanted to stop, And the passion that lead us to Higher heights that we shared so much.
What happen to the love we had.
It's said that sometimes you have to let it go, But if its real it'll return to...
MEANING AND RHYTHM Poetry, you are the truth, gliding in the sky above. You descend in rhythmic lines, chanted by the lips of muse.
With the lyre in her hand, and the thougts inside her mind, she sings with her splendid beats the essence of the whole life.
All her feelings have deep sense, and she sings them in good rhythm. She dislikes the trivial thoughts, written in unrhythmic style. BY JOSEPH ZENIEH ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ____________________________________
Take me back to the time When she wanted me to go with her to the school dance I was a bad kid so I got in-school suspension Sweet talked the teacher into letting me go Showed up late to find her dancing with someone else Just hung out the rest of the day with my friends As they blasted Offspring’s “Pretty fly” on the radio
It was good to live through my generation Guess its all perspective but Late 90s early 2000s is where I found my favorite songs Wish I would have known it while it lasted Still have my old blink records in the attic...