PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He comes to spark my muse

digging all my vulnerable heart out of its golden mold

I'd kept it hidden,but he stole it anyway

 it's in his hands to hold

another time, another story to be told.

He would kiss me if he could

lips would meet, hearts would soar,

but he'll just keep watching,

tucked away safely from afar....

i must wonder, wish upon my shining star

if this  old spell could be broken

by his words so sweetly spoken

 poems spoken in the night ,ever so far

as effervescent and charming as he is,

Im just biding my time with this