Tag: Sonnet

Persimmon

Linger here persimmon… in fire dawn for winter is coming much too soon rest in cool arms of rich golden autumn bask in the orange haze of harvest moon   when the leaves fall and leave mellow fruit as you ripen in smoldering morning…

The Heart of He

His heart is not an instrument for my supple fingers to strum sweet lips are not a sacrament of divine grace which to succumb.

Kiss

  Sweet heart o’ mine, hear my yearning plea staring into your star struck eyes give me absolute hope, set my soul free to soar high in clouded lapis sky.

Charlatan

-By Linda Lee Lyberg Azrail is a charlatan pleading beseeching your soul to drink leaving you weak and bleeding close to the precarious brink.  

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