PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She came In wrath and a scowl on her face 

Rattled me 

Anyhow I was late so it was suppose to be 

She was raging as fire

 I despair with a single desire 

Was she shouldn't leave me 

The wrath in her voice dismay'd me 

One thing that didn't was her pretty eyes 

Staring me

She was raging as fire I smiled and said,

"Your heart, your heart may precious be,

The love that kept us alive may always be"

Now I obscured my love for a while

 and pretend to be irate and kept a scowl

On my face she smiled a pace

Now I'd watered her fire and accomplished my desire 

And away from the danger which came 

Woman's soft heart might remain the same