my valentine
Sometimes I wonder if she is there
someone to hold, cool night air
beneath the stars we stoke the fire
a blanket below hearts desire
to talk through the night
as we explore
as bonds stregthen
searching no more
will I find the one I can trust
one that is faithful
not bent on lust
to walk together
through sands of time
forever yours
my valentine
Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| my valentine | 0 | 09/23/2009 |
| Sheep | 0 | 08/07/2009 |
| Father Time | 0 | 08/06/2009 |
| Anger | 1 | 07/30/2009 |
| Stained | 0 | 07/30/2009 |
| Bitch | 1 | 07/26/2009 |
| Autumn Leaves | 0 | 07/19/2009 |
| Life | 2 | 07/12/2009 |
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.