A Bee Sting
In the catacomb of love
Honey makes' the Bees' sting
-
Feelings' fit nothing like
Gloves
-
But there is nothing like
Trouble sleeping in
The Catacomb of Love
When my Heart dare not
Flutter at the sound of love
Buzzing around my ears'
And Thy Heart thus sing'
In a infinite algorithms'
-Of-
Oh, Who is to say,
What could
There be
A sympathy filled
With Harmony
GF
Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2011
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