Waking is an occupational
hazard,
I rise from the hollow hours
before you
every morning, every night
thoughts of you
tuck me in behind a wind-
break of prose.
A melting pot of paint, poetry and philosophy
A melting pot of paint, poetry and philosophy
Waking is an occupational
hazard,
I rise from the hollow hours
before you
every morning, every night
thoughts of you
tuck me in behind a wind-
break of prose.
Wonderful blog. Thanks for following my blog.
I’m really amazed at your work… it’s made my day :)
Thank you. :-)
and life smiles.
http://andlifesmile.wordpress.com