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Puppylove

The blossom of your cheek,
the sun rays on your lap
a soft first shoulder tap
a heart that dears to speak.

A first whisper in your ear
a sight, soft water strikes,
a competition riding bikes,
the indecision what to wear.

Too young for hearts to say,
to proud to open up
that shiny buttercup
which blossoms -for a day-.

We keep our hearts at play
for finding what we need
in a bewildering speed,
heavens at our doorway.

And then that first tear,
a scratch on the skin,
an uncertain itching,
the painful break for fear.

Insecurity breaks through,
hearts beating faster
in for disaster
a little bit of blue....and
mama's arms around you.


Madrason 28-08-2012

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