Like magic in a hat Reach into nothing Pull out a distraction A game of smoke and mirrors Couple tricks up my sleeve A bouquet of flowers Don’t expect them to be fresh Maybe if you have a second stop and catch their scent
"Are you happy?", I asked him. "Yes I am. And you?", he said "Yes I am happy.", I replied because finally, I stopped writing poems about you, I whispered.
A face devoid of love or grace, A hateful, hard, successful face, A face with which a stone Would feel as thoroughly at ease As were they old acquaintances— First time together thrown.
Her spirit rose to such a height Her countenance it did inflate Like one that fed on awe. More prudent to assault the dawn Than merit the ethereal scorn That effervesced from her.