Damond's poems: A Band Of Gold

Friday, May 18, 2007

A Band Of Gold

A band of gold-- A band so old-- It belonged to my mother. On your hand I wanted it to go. You made it plain-- You wanted another. The band is so dear to me; This you could not see. I bought you another band; I placed it on your hand. Now I find you live in a foreign land. You did not want the band;... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Damond at 8:55 AM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
May 2007
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