Sunday 16 September 2007
Poetry ahoy
My singing voice
Once I could paint your lovely face
With all the colours I could dream
Impart singing joyous smiles with grace
Bridge the gluttonous crimson stream–
Yet my pallet suddenly and swiftly shifted
Almost black and a mythic mist was rising–
From our safe harbor we’ve both drifted
Alone on reddish waters–hardly surprising.
A.S
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3 comments:
wow, what the hell am I doing here, but in a completely uncommon use of the phrase "to love something" in the english language, namely in the use of meaning it, I really love that poem ^^
kommer nog dyka upp mer dylikt i framtiden. eller om du vill *ha* mer så har jag en bunt på datorn=)
are they all sad?
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