We started out as scribbles of ink.
A web of dulcet words,
Intertwined.
We came to life on golden pages.
With feather light touches,
Embracing.
We began to fall downward, slowly.
Tumbling in green grasses,
Happily.
We were all sweetness and sugar cakes.
With frosting and cherries,
Enticing.
We were breathtaking and beautiful.
Dancing under the night,
Alluring.
YOU ARE READING
To Live Is to Love
RomanceLove is an endless cycle of searching, surrender and trust. It has become the blood in our veins, the breath in our lungs, indeed the very life in our bodies. We simply cannot live without it. A collection of poems and stories that involve someone l...
