Little did she know,
How my heart jumps in joy,
In the small things she does
How she completes my day,
Every time I glimpsed her face—
At the back of my heart
Little did she know,
The poems that I wrote,
A piece of me is in store
How words are drawn—
Out of the abyss,
Of truth and fantasies
One thing I wish she knew:
I love her—
I love her like it was my first.
⚫
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Unsung Serenades
Poetry"May these words come to life and find their way home- May they find their way to you." Highest Rank: #6 in Poetry In September of 1997, a shivering kiss from the rain's breeze awakened John's soul to write. Words are drawn out in the abyss of truth...
