The Prints In The Palace
You were my friend(still are I hope)
I hung my prints in your palace
never expecting another look
You read my thoughts so well
my mouth was truly dry
I thought about your lips
and what's appealing to the eye
The never-ending onion
was placed over the kitchen stove
so my tears would hide within the stew
and stir the house anew
You followed me the day I left
I carried a small part of you
That dropp is now an ocean
an ocean of morning dew
poem by Boink Boink
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
