Patter
By duderag
Till the next time she comes around I will allow little moments to patter To patter the panes of windowed soul Reflecting on each driven drop The paths of many lead to one Drops into trickles Trickles into rivers Rivers into the soul That go to ground To be drawn, drawn of earth Where the heart is planted To be grown of seed But for now Till the next time she comes around I will allow little moments to patter May 2001 The feeling I got waiting to be with her again Written May 1st, 2001 © on Jan 20 2002 07:57 PM PST 0 • 8
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"Till the next time she comes around..."