My first poem, it was about a girl I haven't seen in quite awhile, but still think about, even now.

Snow fresh fallen by a frozen lake,
Brown rivers flow, my thirst unslaked,
Resting by banks of pink whose foundation quivers,
Warm hands on mounds of frost, feel the earth shiver,
To thaw the fields, the Sun I'll make,
A fiery core burning, her soul will wake


Submitted: October 16, 2009

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Mistress of Word Play

Sheer elegance. Flow, rhythm, and words were perfect.
A beautiful write.
Susan

Sat, October 17th, 2009 4:40pm

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Thanks alot. This poem seems to either get that response or "My goodness, you have a dirty mind!" lol

Sun, October 18th, 2009 5:03am

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