Feb 14
He was like fresh linen off the clothes line.
Sweet scented from flapping in the summer's day breeze.
He wasn't rough, or smoky, or smelling of pine.
But soft and warm and mine.
We spent lazy afternoons side by side.
Dreary hours never staying long.
Labyrinths explored and charted in our minds,
I'd gaze at my boy with those jade eyes.
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Poetry For The Lost People
Poesia365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions about the way of the world. A...
