Short Pondering
Young love, they call it,
Mature; they call me.
What do I get when I put them together?
A thought so provocative that your friends would call you a creeper.
So love me, and throw me like a rag doll, into love; deeper.
Short Pondering
Young love, they call it,
Mature; they call me.
What do I get when I put them together?
A thought so provocative that your friends would call you a creeper.
So love me, and throw me like a rag doll, into love; deeper.
Danny31294 commented on Short Pondering
05-14-2010
05/14/2010
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.