Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Walking from a vendy at night, thinking of you.....

So goes the rice,
in their neatly drawn rows,
tucked soft away in their gently tanned clothes
charmed by the dance of a windy night blows
just as the writer of these faulty words knows
that the beaming just above the crook of your nose
holds the same facination, as knowing love goes
when she knows,
she knows!

No comments:

Post a Comment