Well Grouted
You are me before I hit that wall-In you I see my innate beauty renewed.
My autumnal oak tree as you flutter your
Leaves of bronze and gold onto my path
To dispel worn wrath to blossom on the deep
Waters slung paled to pastels.
How subtle you are as you see me as
I was before...
To see beyond the wall well grouted...
I never doubted as I did before that
You would become me so tenderly-
I feel out of my depth yet not feared of drowning.
Do tell me where we might
Store these bricks?
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2009-09-14 at 23:32
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