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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
poetry from year 8.

Submitted: July 19, 2012

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Submitted: July 19, 2012




A thousand paces is worth th’journey to see thine porcelain face

 for without thou, my mind be left blank, my head be just bleached space.

Thine blazing eyes, wherin mermaid lies,

raw scars of past shine through,

intrigue immerses me into th’story

of thine past, as now I do.

Each kiss a perfume of lethargy, thyself in a sleep of endless dreams,

an unreal realm into which I fell,  a dreamland, as it seems.

With thine curls, locks of wonder,

velvet tears against my face,

I need’st have anything to live or survive,

If thou art at my place.

With a blue-eyed voice and a soothing tone,

holding a rock sharp accent on thou side,

‘tis no wonder why, when accused of adultery

t’was hard for me to have lied.

But yet, and still, right here we lie, as though thyself is me,

every thought and hope, and dream and wish, we share


 in secrecy. 

© Copyright 2018 Kathryn Thorne. All rights reserved.