When in love, we need tenderness.


Tenderness


Be gentle with me.
Let your steps rustle
like bed sheets when spread.
Let warm milk smell
in the morning, and quince
by the window.
Be as calm as a grove
at sunset.

Be gentle with me,
for my soul is a child in cradle,
and wants you to take it into your arms
to say nice words
and sing songs.



Poetry by Dejan
Read 444 times
Written on 2006-11-15 at 19:13

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