Poetry Weaver

Falling

yellow and black butterflies cocoon

Catching me sleeping,
Seductively creeping,
Like a spider web sweeping,
Visions of you keep seeping,
Into my thoughts

Around me it’s swirling
Your magic keeps whirling
Round your finger I’m twirling
Reservations unfurling
Oh dear I am lost

White knuckles slipping
Over words I am tripping,
This poor heart is skipping
My resolve you are stripping
Whatever the cost

Your cocoon now enfolds me
Your loving arms hold me
Your gentle touch molds me
It is as you told me
At last I am home

Skills

Posted on

June 24, 2021

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