+++++the patience
+++++of one
+++++whose maintenance is rich

+++++the boredom
+++++of another
+++++whose dream has sat so long,
+++++it’s getting quite an itch

+++++the crestfallen feeling
+++++of disappointment
+++++of not being seen
+++++in a simple peek-a-boo
+++++when the grown-up
+++++gives up the game
+++++and somehow you

+++++the fears
+++++that grow so fast,
+++++like wall-clawing ivy vines
+++++that mightily resist
+++++both the forceful
+++++and the well-planned, clever rips. . .

+++++The anger and the loneliness
+++++fast, close-dwelling friends
+++++like fire and ice in belly

+++++The warm wet touch
+++++of lips upon my lips
+++++when a deeply trusted one
+++++becomes and stays my man
+++++and turns my sturdy heart
+++++to jelly.

This entry was posted in Poetry, POETRY PICNIC GOOSEBERRY GARDEN, Week 18. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to WILD

  1. Summer says:

    true sentiments, wow.

  2. Francina says:

    Hi , I nominated and give you the Versatile Blogger award, because I enjoy visiting and reading your blog !



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