love me in the willows cove

if all theses tears,

would stop at hope

and blood would slow

its pace,

in epic muraled

fantasy

designed to hide

this face..

if seasons came

at loves behest

and panicked at

the fall,

there would be then

in fluttered palm

ever small bud

at all..

About lifeofawillow

lifeofawillow.wordpress.com
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