She is made of memories, of words and picture frames,
Of summer nights and flying kites and long-forgotten names.
She is made of poetry and pages filled with words.
Of journeys to anywhere and soaring with songbirds.
She belongs in an old book shop, with a cup of tea.
She belongs to happiness, and she belongs with me.
She is made of music, the songs stuck in her head.
She is made of pages in the books that she has read.
She holds endless mysteries, her mind a winding maze.
She is an adventure in a thousand different ways.
She belongs in an old book shop, with a cup of tea.
She belongs to happiness, and she belongs with me.
© 2015
Originally inspired by the song "She" by Dodie Clark but it ended up taking an entirely different turn
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Fragments
Poetry"Tomorrow's not promised. It may not arrive. So why do we waste The days we are alive?" A collection of poems and songs. #81 in Poetry | April 28, 2015 © 2015
