Streams JoinA Poem by Spencer Barker
Trickling,
what a beautiful sound, really. You must make not even a whisper to hear. ----- Our hands hold, we must keep out the cold. The stream rises, dips, plunges, and sips. On we go! Down, down, down the stream. Love at first sight, a kiss at first light, moments of true admiration spark, leaving us at the end of it all. Seeping edges of the river grow with us, in making a lasting love.
© 2016 Spencer Barker |
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