Increasingly bold
When I release
Which is repressed
You can listen
where you are
the son of my joy
But I'm not satisfied!
I send to you the sound of thunder
That comes before the storm
in His desert.
the sound
before the big rain
silences you
And from now on
only you know
And so it is my pleasure
That my awaking has Just Begun
And you say!
Well done! ! ! !
finally you go!
When lightning and falling
near or far
you will always remember me
with yourself, and think
OH! How can she pleasure without me! That Way!
Send to me such ray! ! ! !
poem by Mirna Morgan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
