Coalescing into an ineffable infinity of
serendipity evenings of peculiarity and
fiery. There have been times that I
wanted to weep.
Weep, angered that I ever met you. A
stone, yet I am patient as I gaze into your
eyes. Never understanding completely,
your mind not pliable.
Oh, this despoiled flesh the path to
happiness, the consummation of my brain.
I think this thing called love is very tiring,
very, very, tiring as the tides of life flow
onward.
****
2013.annjohnsonmurphree
All eBooks at the address below:
http://www.amazon.com/Ann-Johnson-Murphree/e/B00CGBLQZO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1375763518&sr=8-2
Pingback: Love is Tiring…writerannjohnsonmurphree | Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie
So very true…
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Icanbeatit.
LikeLike
Thank you so much for the reblog. Ann
LikeLike
You are welcome 🙂 🙂
~Ankush
LikeLike
Pingback: an ineffable infinity of serendipity evenings of peculiarity and fiery. | ann johnson murphreeauthor | Hey Sweetheart, Get Me Rewrite!
Yes! Thanks for stopping by… Ann
LikeLike
So so true.
LikeLike
Yes! At any age… Ann
LikeLike
Reblogged this on delaneycassinelli and commented:
Beautiful, awesome poem. Reads the thoughts of anyone who has ever been in love.
LikeLike
Thank you for the reblog, and for the comment. Ann
LikeLike
Often overlooked, but you have put your finger on the sentiment. Good poem, Ann.
LikeLike
Thank you Jane. Ann
LikeLike
Pingback: rabaty