Loye Poem by Mina Lotfi

Loye



His remembring, Harpe on my heart
My moments so heavy
Puring not joy and happy
My sky would be blue with you
Climax to that white cloud
Give my body to the wind
At the heart of yellow sun
To Melt your looking
It would be pure love
Kind of pure soil

Thursday, November 6, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Love
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