Not Slings, Nor Arrows Nor ....

Not Slings, Nor Arrows ...Nor

 

Does that breath, of air.

Which whispers, pon,

A summers breeze.

Bring solace ..,,,

For a lonely heart?

Or is it an icy chill,

That kills, loves flame?

That'd cause you to,

Kiss

 

A poisoned Chalice?

Giajl © Jim Love 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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