Spring Fever
This is it,
the very place in which I dwell.
Fears, grips of dread,
anticipations and stimulations.
There is no other
place, never was or will be,
as I turn back,
enter into my own heart.
the very place in which I dwell.
Fears, grips of dread,
anticipations and stimulations.
There is no other
place, never was or will be,
as I turn back,
enter into my own heart.
2 Comments:
i just want to say how much i enjoyed reading your blog. your prose has a fantastic rythmn to it, so much so, it sometimes think I'm reading to a bluesy drum beat. i'm really envious of how it has such a kick! i can't describe it but damn i can only click my fingers and try again another day...
Thank you, Danny -- coming from a fellow writer who I admire, your words mean a lot to me. La la, ain't life goofy? Hope your weekend is so good that you don't remember a thing on Monday.
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