Saturday, 9 February 2008

The child

Every first glimpse
feels like a child at recess
rushing up the lawn
greeting the mum he misses

Those emeralds of sight
those pearls of white
I continue to yearn
In heart I listen

Not to own
Burning inside
From distanced zone
smiling wide

Like a morning flower
missing the sun's touch
Trying to reach higher
Alas, only dare watch

Of dozens I love
In love with one
To seal a sin
kept deep within

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