I remembered how the crickets chimed in perfect chorus.
Tricks and Magics; Bursting tears and confetti made of numbers
Wanting the night breeze to chill my nose hairs again. Hey, it's amorous!
Adoring your laughs, every night we sealed it like lovers.
Searching and enduring. Bud, daisies have yellow stains and yet so pretty
Sadness came, but the moon was brighter.
Under different circumstances, we shone the brightest.
Never have I ever got the last card. You bet. Never.
YOU ARE READING
Lonesome Hymns
PoetryTo those who enjoy poetry. This one is for you. "To make the most of what I have. Not to crush it down, not vainly to wish that it was something else, but to cultivate it in such ways as will not vex either God or Man." E.M. Forster This is a fine c...
