Daily Bread
Church bells summonsinners to their Spanish
castle walls whilst black
or blue of middle skies
resound to pealing calls
and from an oven in a
kitchen sneaks the smell
of daily bread that makes
her think of greater sins
than those inside her head.
And as her mind reflects upon
the one that is not near the
smile turns just to camouflage
she finds comfortable to wear
for there was a time when
mornings thus the bells
brought her to him but
lately they just bind her heart
with love incapable to share.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2009-03-18 at 12:55
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by Elle Latest textsTwo Little CatsHills Not the End Cinders Oh perfect Day |
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