Fair Maidens I see the cunning in his eye sweet is the spittle He pulls the downy seeds and tunes his whistle He catches all the joy the running summer will carry all the comfort and transfer the loving ache into another. Beware your softness floats towards his conquest. He yearns to feel the... Sign in to see full entry.
C.C.:
By C_C_T - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry
About this Blog
Searching for it.
Recent Entries
Blogs
Previous: (No subject) - New Entries - Next: (No subject)