The Poetry Pages



The wind whispers your name through the wilderness of my mind,
A dawn chorus sings your praises to the beaded rain.
Why's this feeling, so pure and tender
Pierce my heart with searing pain?

Yours is the fragrance of apple blossom
Mine's the smell of sweet despair
I wander the corridors of Love's daubed labyrinth
Hoping to find you there.

Poem by Gary Lewis

Copyright The Bentilean 1999

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