I still love your words, and now you have a voice
That is bewitching in its cadences.
You talk of cuckoo, birds and my heart rejoices
You, talk of vines and, quiet awakenings.
And how your words claim a right to haunt
While I remember my own, inertia
And how, my own, words, were given applauds
Complementing, each other, vice-a-versa
I still love your words, and much have they grown
Your old cuckoo birds are now nightingales
Your vine, Morning glory, entwines a throne
Not one word would I edit or curtail.
You talk of cuckoo, birds and my heart rejoices
… Talk of vines, now aren’t these my languages.
Did you enjoy the the artible “I Still Love Your Words” from Mark Heathcote on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply