"budless" poems
Thunderstorms grumble
this first March dawn.
The sun hides, shamed,
from the downpour.
Crows drip from bleak wires.
Spring is a lie on the lips
of budless branches.
Life can only be
what it is, when it is.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 8:26 AM UTC
Defense and apprehension keeps me
Should i mention this immense, ascending feeling reaping me?
The reeling out of sight
bright, shining at the sight if you.
You shine for me
You shine on me
I'd be hardly known, uneasily and seemingly roam, not free form from room to room, in and out an unavoidable
unavailable vacancy of gloom.
In bloom, my flowering budless, aweless, awfully lawful, peer-free, though id cease to be not flawless.
I want nothing more than this.
God i want you
I need you to feel what i have when i see you see me feeling you. I love you.
Mar 10, 2020
Mar 10, 2020 at 10:32 AM UTC