Robdob
Bluelighter
What has become?
Is it not just one week gone,
since I relinquished thought
to your peripheral beauty?
The portrait of a young rose has developed,
quivering, in sad yellow.
Crisp thorns have pierced threw
one thousand words
spewing forth
one thousand lies.
For it be that true beauty is so powerful
it may never be captured.
[This message has been edited by Robdob (edited 23 August 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Robdob (edited 24 August 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Robdob (edited 24 August 2001).]
Is it not just one week gone,
since I relinquished thought
to your peripheral beauty?
The portrait of a young rose has developed,
quivering, in sad yellow.
Crisp thorns have pierced threw
one thousand words
spewing forth
one thousand lies.
For it be that true beauty is so powerful
it may never be captured.
[This message has been edited by Robdob (edited 23 August 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Robdob (edited 24 August 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Robdob (edited 24 August 2001).]
