Monday, April 29, 2013

Summer in a Bowl

A distant rumbling thunder

And the sound of your breathing,

Are all I could hear.

Asleep in my arms you lie,

In a small room near the market place,

A place where lovers hide.

As you lie here dreaming,

The smell of your hair,

‘Reminds me of us

Slipping away from a church,

On a warm summer afternoon;

The day we first kissed!’

‘Cause your hair today darling

Smells like summer in a bowl.

( Monday, August 6, 2012 at 11:55pm)

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