Comments about Jackie Allen
When mornings are born each day and anew...
And skies are painted a crystal-clear robin's
Egg blue, the sun dances and kisses with hot
Lip's breeze, the shoulders of the loving-tree.
Its canopy of inciting passion blooms
Flowers... sweetly perfumed... with honeyed scents
Of romance. Beneath its branches, love makes
A path. And in its knowing, leaves footprints.