Autumn nights
reaching to the back
of my dreams.
There’s nothing more
delicious than
thinking of you.
Jazz music in the breeze.
Running shampoo
through your hair.
This is what I like the most.
A short poem about love
Autumn nights
reaching to the back
of my dreams.
There’s nothing more
delicious than
thinking of you.
Jazz music in the breeze.
Running shampoo
through your hair.
This is what I like the most.
A Wandering Poet 