Hazy whiffs of sun drops cross the trees Casting spells with fostered candlelight Beneath a dew of green, submersed and submarine I held a girl whose lips were red as sight
Down the hills of Cannes did a I fall Under the muse of June was I Betrothed As sweet as Nectarines craving for the dawns sunbeams The heat of passion turned to a blood clot
Clouds of Spanish castles rise to view Pass the glowing turquoise of my youth Weightless in the evenings of summers endless weekends Faith is the child's protege of truth
Blue is the colour of my childhood A vintage encapsulation of when I bloomed Fair, green emollient is the dowry of my sentence A rustic glade where time is never to soon
I have a confession... I write for therapy, its not transcend artistic statements or postulating polemics, I write to communicate and express myself in a form that can promote communication between pa.. more..