EXTACY
Whisper through your piano and tell me you won't leave, composing melodies to the world for me.
I reckon this new miracle will persist, the seed thrown in good soil.
Toiled and toiled for perfect harvest to shun what's desolate... All that lacks permanence.
Fine specimen thank God you landed in my grasp, I'm blessed. Crafting Eden for you my gentleman.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY
PoetryLETTERS TO MY BETROTHED, A LOVE UNLIKE NO OTHER. POEMS PROMPTED BY FAITH.
