Wasn't it truly glorious ?.....Could you trade the special moments for any trinket or object of man's design.
The power of a passionate woman will bring even Kings and Gods to their knees.
Damn them...bless them...damn them...bless them...damn them...bless them.
Wasn't it truly glorious ?.....Could you trade the special moments for any trinket or object of man's design.
The power of a passionate woman will bring even Kings and Gods to their knees.
Damn them...bless them...damn them...bless them...damn them...bless them.
Memory is a funny and fickle thing: the things that we remember, that always linger near the surface, that may not have seemed so important at the time the event occurred, but that seem to be everything years later. Oftentimes, it’s the smallest of things – the way someone smiled, the sound of laughter, the smell of cologne, something sweet or corny that they said, or observing them doing something so free of thought that it made them transcendentally beautiful in that moment. No one is ever so beautiful as when they feel free from self-consciousness and can just be themselves, devoid of fear.
Your poem is a beautiful homage to a living memory that has kept that person with you all along. She walks with you.
Posted 10 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
This is so beautiful, and the person you describe in this write, is truly a love or a soulmate of your own heart... the feeling I get from this gives me smiles, and happiness through all the pain that could exsist in life... it makes me feel you two are invincible, such a power in your words, and a trust. I think this survives by the love you have in you. Wonderful work my sweet friend xx
"My trepidation of things past is not a song with a beginning, middle and end. But an endless symphony playing infinite variations on the same theme. One day of sadness fades into another and the .. more..