Guitar in hand,
And lovely thoughts in mind,
Her beautiful dark eyes glow with curiosity,
And joy of living,
Her black long hair is soft and stunning,
Her voice is soothing,
Although she doesn't quite like it.
She smiles and tells me the stories about her school
And her friends,
And music school which I abandoned
Last year.
But she didn't.
She keeps learning,
She is determined,
And that's something I like about her.
YOU ARE READING
My loved ones; a journey.
Poetry“Perhaps one did not want to be loved, as much as to be understood” George Orwell.
