She is the sky!

Too harsh are the words of one whose eyes
Kindly speak in gilded words
yet none of us understand the pains
in those melancholy browns

She speaks of love-
yet, she knows not me, she sighs in the wind
and I cannot breeth.

too lovely are the words of
of one whose fancy
lips do slyly lie, and make
Sonnets of rhyming delights

I am forgotten….
While she is a temple a and a sight
for love sick fools
who do much admire her effervescent
Locks

I am in a desert; always thirsty.
where she walks
Pearls and an oasis follow.
I am but a grain of sand.
And, she is the sky.


Breeth, is not a typo it is in old english. just if anyone was wondering.


Comments

  • AmandaGWright
    AmandaGWrightover 5 years ago

    This is beautiful.

  • thank you, I am glad that you liked it!

    – ayham Salameh

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