Sunrises Randomly Meet
By sidewinder
It was the worst of times, It was the best of times, Yet through those memories enchanted in a soul where passion meets, recalling dreams grasped in the silence, An early afternoon held only in the horizon, Satisfied by a smile varied in the echo of her eyes, And in the hour of love a heart listens, Yearning to be held only by an embrace, Coveted by a touch celebrated by in the morn, Glances made in shadows where an awakening touches beyond the magic and those sunrises randomly meet the silence. Aug. 10, 2000 Written January 30th, 2002 © on Jan 30 2002 08:23 AM PST, Billy E. Whitehorn 0 • 8
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"It was the worst of times,..."