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And I Might Still Hold You
In your arms
I shall not want
What sleepless desire
In your matchless heart
Desolate pits
Some cavernous gaze
With blessed pains
And love comes in drips
The rain would come
And the stones would sparkle
The rivers would run
Beneath our feet
The rushing would come
And i might still hold you
The kindness will come back
I promise, in the morning
In this place
I shall not fear
What is to admire
In the coming tense
Destitute quips
Some lessening eyes
With darkened skies
The shadow comes to kiss
The rain would come
And the stones would sparkle
The rivers would run
Beneath our feet
The rushing would come
And i might still hold you
The kindness will come back
I promise
Your pen name drew me in.
Your pen name drew me in. Read many of your poems this evening. I would definately describe you as a "garden soul." Thank you for sharing.
Thank you!
Thank you!