You come in my dream every day, Will I meet you one fine day?
Your hands on my hands. What a tragic, yet beautiful mystery.
A Poem by Jacqueline Brown ©2016 < br/>(<a href="https://youtu.be/4csrJJ_iatg" target="_blank">youtu.be/4csrJJ_iatg</a>)
tiny things make me think of you. however, you still don't pick up on that
Wake up to hear your voice so soft and sweet True joy in my heart when you ask to meet
I’m not quite sure why you say it Who you are is perfect I hate that you don’t see it
what love looks like when you don't look for it
By: Ryan DiFalco
the second poem in this *wonderful* romantic poem series by me, called "face".
My eyes open and greet the day But there’s something missing
THE PHANTOM OF OPERA< br/>< br/>The phantom of opera leads me to the moon’s trace. The phantom singer and the mask’s grace are a duet in the same dance. The voice is sculpting a face. That face may ...
"She’ll still love you tomorrow, right?" I ask myself each night; Yes dummy, she’s told you a thousand times
You remember your first love because they show you, prove to you, that you can love and be loved, that nothing in this world is deserved except for love, that love is both how you become a person and ...
This poem is about matters of heart, where the realm of reasoning does not work. For the matters of the heart are not controlled by the mind but by emotions and feelings alone.
You come in my dream every day, Will I meet you one fine day?
Your hands on my hands. What a tragic, yet beautiful mystery.
A Poem by Jacqueline Brown ©2016 < br/>(<a href="https://youtu.be/4csrJJ_iatg" target="_blank">youtu.be/4csrJJ_iatg</a>)
tiny things make me think of you. however, you still don't pick up on that
Wake up to hear your voice so soft and sweet True joy in my heart when you ask to meet
I’m not quite sure why you say it Who you are is perfect I hate that you don’t see it
what love looks like when you don't look for it
By: Ryan DiFalco
the second poem in this *wonderful* romantic poem series by me, called "face".
My eyes open and greet the day But there’s something missing
THE PHANTOM OF OPERA< br/>< br/>The phantom of opera leads me to the moon’s trace. The phantom singer and the mask’s grace are a duet in the same dance. The voice is sculpting a face. That face may ...
"She’ll still love you tomorrow, right?" I ask myself each night; Yes dummy, she’s told you a thousand times
You remember your first love because they show you, prove to you, that you can love and be loved, that nothing in this world is deserved except for love, that love is both how you become a person and ...
This poem is about matters of heart, where the realm of reasoning does not work. For the matters of the heart are not controlled by the mind but by emotions and feelings alone.