From the past, mayhap, some time ago
Emerged the loveliness
Once and again
From a point of splendor
Revealed the softness, the loveliness
And took my breath away
¸.• ´¸.•´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•' Beauty is certainly a soft, smooth, slippery thing, and therefore of a nature which easily slips in and permeates our souls.
'Tis your right to mourn the loss
Of love and all it means
The water of the tears flow
Flowers, trees, and fruit cannot be
But to run in the sunlight, for pure delight
A wounded heart will heal in time
The memory of lost love is sealed inside of me
Truth be told.
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.