My Ring Finger
The fingers I see,
Long, pointed and soft,
As a lotus flowers,
Distant memory fades
It graces the face
The fingers once did trace,
As it leaves a churning
Whirl in me
I look beyond my window
Many passers by I see
Who perhaps have yet to do?
Many a chores that await me
The fourth finger
A remembrance of the love
Then so pure
Now in eyes a tear
A quivering sore
The ears continuously ring
As I wash the dishes
Through autumn to spring
The memories of anniversaries
My finger continues to string.
`
Comments
I know this scenario. Tried
I know this scenario. Tried four times.
Fiddlesticks to each one.
~V~
ELIZABETH TAYLOR
Just did it an eighth time
you still have so much more
let me know
the data of the next one
then i'll advise
if u say so
A fabulous and fat person
will always remain so
so you now also know
how much
i'm worth my weight in cold
sorry ...
I meant gold
Breakup...............
your poem carried all the imagination of someone realy lost love and pain.
So deep , and very expressive.
wonderful my friend
Salaams
Salaams
Arabian Nights,
we make up
to break up
and then remake
for a longer take
when we then totally shake
what was our mistake.????
I love your intentions
for you are too Gods,
Allahs creation,s
My Salaams
My Salaams
Arabian Nights
We make up
To break up
And
Then remake
For a longer take,
When we then totally shake
What was our mistake?
I love your intentions
For you are too God’s,
Ah! Allah’s creations
finger
Fate has thus far denied my having to de-ring my finger . You have captured the pain of any less fortunate in this write...............scribbler