Tuesday, July 7, 2009

poem of the day :~)

Your soft finger’s massaged my arm in circles
A spinning wheel I was, falling fast into a trance,
As we laird on the couch,
You kept resting your head on my bosom,
And I played with baby soft hair,
As we woke and re-awoke to the rising sun,
Before drifting off to slumber with the angels.

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