The warm glow of the morning sun
awaken red silky tendrils
Stretching and forming
to her glorious shape
Her perfume scent touch
the tip of my nose
As gentle hands cup her chin
admiring her beauty
But she trembles
Until finally the tears came
The tears of great pain
from the very core of
her delicate heart
She mutters such sad words
Between sobs as she pleas
But even I cannot give her
Her father....
julita
No comments:
Post a Comment