Time Well Spent

and the sonnets were blooming across the pages of my days

when your lips were pressing their secrets into my skin

and the guitars were were languidly seducing my sunsets

as your fingertips traced the heritage of time along my spine

and the violins were gently mourning the innocence of my dreams

as your body sang the songs of light found dancing within my soul.


Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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