Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Sunday, June 21, 2020

Earthly LIfe


There is no measurement to time
nor an ending to the rhymes,
the years are our yesterdays that
lead you to these arms of mine.

You can call it what you will
when my heart first stood still,
in an amazing kind of way
you took my breath away.

There is no measurement to time
nor an ending to the rhymes,
the years are our yesterdays that
lead you to these arms of mine. 

Holding you so ever tight
for the rest of my earthly life, 
in a tender embrace of souls 
with a love that never grows old. 

There is no measurement to time
nor an ending to the rhymes,
the years are our yesterdays that
lead you to these arms of mine. 








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