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Perhaps

Perhaps that love flies by on silver wings what hurts the most is how it stings but rise we must for love it brings us lonely little ding a lings... supporting words are ever sought prattling of some brighter thought round and round it rattles till the keyboard forms and words instil love you mate and I ain’t bent you be a shiela heaven sent Don Johnson

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 3/19/2011 9:08:00 PM
this is so wonderful... love it
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Date: 3/18/2011 8:58:00 AM
love it ,just love it, great little rhyme Don
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Date: 3/18/2011 8:37:00 AM
Love can sting sometimes, Don, but how can we live without it? I love the way you describe the words expressing love as prattling around until they take form. Awesome poem, dear friend. Love, Carolyn
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Date: 3/18/2011 5:09:00 AM
Very meaningful expressions on love, Don
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Book: Shattered Sighs