Sunday, September 6, 2015

My Lady, ( O My Sweet Flower )

Your lips is very tender and soft like a single white
dazzled feather to be, her pale naked face truly
smooth like a whip cream of lemons and cherries
together, her eyes her hair was so bright and young
indeed of brown color, her hands her feet her precious
legs, her uproarious arms, her long easy going neck
are the kissable and tickling tree branches charmingly
and stall, her heart is growing and blossomed of her
own classical chest within, her love her passion her
beauteous was even stronger then a single root or a
single boot, she dance like a wind of flowers daisies
Daffodils, the red strawberry wine and flavored rose
was everywhere in the mix, her spirit and her soul
very decent and wise, when she sings a lovely song
in the echoing air and wind as a blue hazel nut bird
of fate, her words was very deep like the river down
stream and stream, what a dream come true

Written by
Michael James Brindley
9-6-15

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