Poetry, I do suppose,

Is feeling molded into prose.
A metaphor or simile
And there you have it: poetry.

May 24, 2011

Beachside Bride


I stole her arm and hand in hand
We walked along the sunbaked sand.
We walked on trails through the trees -
Her hair whipped like the emerald reeds.
She led me to the lakeside shore -
And I kissed her there and then once more.
Her lips were as soft as the evening tide,
And her eyes gleamed like those of a beachside bride.

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