Wilting For Love, Though More Dire Poem by james watkin

Wilting For Love, Though More Dire



Wilting for love, though more dire
Than having one's smile but fade
Will you, pots, of its pride's folly
Sentimental, be out-displayed.

For there's more in a cold hand's drip
To track summer-nursing by!
For this is Woman! Endearments spilling.
Wait I that warm heart's supply.

Friday, April 12, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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