A Tritina about love
In the spirit of Walt Whitmas, a "song of myself."
Sunny Sunday afternoon— perfect time to sway in the hammock, staring blankly into the foliage that towers above me and dances to the music of my mind....
Time moves far too slowly. Oh, how much I miss you!
To you it may be just another name, but to me it's a song of heaven.
I’m counting the days 'til the waiting’s done,
What is better than a longing?
A preview of this week's poetry challenge form: Ovillejo.
What will we do when we are old?
Here I am, in the sunshine of his love—