Whose are these two hearts,
Adrift in a mire,
Do the two touch and another,
passing through the dark cobweb corners of the mind.
Like unto the Kwanzan Flowering Cherry tree,
Where the petals fell there is a glow and those,
That were there remember so well.
The rise and fall of the chest gone wild.
The apricot smell of your hair I remember so well,
the light fragrance of soap mingled with strong smell of musk,
The effect you had was one of Wisteria enveloping me,
The whole blue ray experience surround sound and all.
copyright 2/23/2012
Robin D. Ruffin
Showing posts with label Shakespearian type writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shakespearian type writing. Show all posts
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
New Poem
Oh that light through bathroom there with the lens implant glare,
Cause my poor head to blare with blase n pounding inside my aware.
Oh woman who cause pain, how doth tyranny survive,
With beholding compassion happiness and affection yon tide do est arise.
Suffocation as if the bamboo grew, in that place where it is dark,
Those echo's of ear ho-lowed hall becomes a sense of destiny's fall eventually succumbs.
How you say should I be-swayed To dare to write in forgotten way's,
Because how those word's of od days gone past, remiss of a time Where passions last,
Where upon the heart of another all pleasures we are allowed to cast,
We should render with all our minds, the fact disappointment finds era us all in time.
Grand youth is well armed, and as if those fields should be well farmed.
So all kisses are stolen and Because the watchful mother is as the Lion.
The carpenter will built a house seemingly well built to live within,
Yea on the horizon a storm resides, making turbulent and less transparent oh yonder tide!
Copyright property
of
Robin D. Ruffin
Cause my poor head to blare with blase n pounding inside my aware.
Oh woman who cause pain, how doth tyranny survive,
With beholding compassion happiness and affection yon tide do est arise.
Suffocation as if the bamboo grew, in that place where it is dark,
Those echo's of ear ho-lowed hall becomes a sense of destiny's fall eventually succumbs.
How you say should I be-swayed To dare to write in forgotten way's,
Because how those word's of od days gone past, remiss of a time Where passions last,
Where upon the heart of another all pleasures we are allowed to cast,
We should render with all our minds, the fact disappointment finds era us all in time.
Grand youth is well armed, and as if those fields should be well farmed.
So all kisses are stolen and Because the watchful mother is as the Lion.
The carpenter will built a house seemingly well built to live within,
Yea on the horizon a storm resides, making turbulent and less transparent oh yonder tide!
Copyright property
of
Robin D. Ruffin
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