just finished dinner
peas and chicken
now
I can admire the dripping sunset
his wounds are mine
his tears wash my face
my thunder bites his clouds
thou
I never finished love just dinner
for love does finish you
when bloodying skies are crying
my wound becomes a smile
barely…
Destiny Poets
Uniting and celebrating the best "Writers" and "Poetry" from around the world centred out of Destiny Church Wakefield
” Italian dinner ” ,..” his wounds are mine ” ; Hitchcock a la forno and a side salad.
🙂 Thank you so kindly, Louis Kasatkin! 🙂
And was that too early a dinner ! with no pasta , no cheese & no oregano !
This title is only a memory bootstrap to remember me that I wrote the poem for an Italian friend and her picture of an extraordinary sunset…. Thank you, lokesh roy!
my wound becomes a smile rarely… great write..:)
Thank you so very much, Dr Mary! Much obliged!