He bestills my heart with the tenderness he speaks,
the dreams that he has and all of his memories.
He has a spell on my heart one that seems to always
be there, no matter not how much I may feel and hurt.
His soul beckons for mine to wake, to drift away from
our bodies in an attemp to escape our lives.
My mind speaks loving words to him that needs not
be spoken, for I know they will find their way to him.
My pulse races when I sleep of a night dreaming of
him until the day breaks and I shall be relieved only
when I wake.
Real life can sometimes bring out the best or worse in people. Writing/reading can help you understand the difference.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Bestilled heart
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copyright 2011 Bathsheba Dailey,
love poems
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