WITH YOU WHEN HARSH FEELINGS DIE (stirs–)

Love when harsh feelings die-stir my heart
fields like golden dreams sticking life
like humming bird’s wings
A bright sun hangs in place that burns my heart
feels mighty like olden days
when i picked red roses
which left all pink
— reminds me of you
as June’s garden full
of odours like when sweet
violets sicken. Then will
you think you’re happy?

:: ~~ ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

You must be logged in to post a comment.

%d bloggers like this: