You, a water
By a pondI let the bushes with leafy wet lips
kiss me
and serve the most deep red hips
there are many here
by the garden table dressed in grey
in mist
barely visible
under the lock of hair
I see you
through the vase with glassy flowers
Poetry by Loke
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Written on 2005-12-09 at 18:46
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Esti D-G |
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by Loke Latest textsWeaving with youSpring haiku Weather of beauty wet flirt a fragrance My favoritesThe Calm and the Turbulent SeaThe Crimean Shores |
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