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Searching For a Sign

The wine was the finest cuisine smooth as creme The atmosphere buoyant garnished with a moonbeam She searched his eyes for a sign those deep pools of blue Tonight, of all nights, iced over flashing, 'I can never love you'

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 11/11/2020 4:35:00 PM
This is a lovey one, Gershon!! A fine cuisine, indeed!!
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Date: 11/10/2020 4:59:00 PM
Ooohhhh this one was cold!
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 11/10/2020 5:16:00 PM
Cold as ice! He's a 'woman-eater!' Beware! :) gw
Date: 11/9/2020 11:35:00 AM
The eyes are the mirror of one’s soul, lovely poem Gershon... Belle
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 11/9/2020 5:05:00 PM
Thank you for your encouragement, Belle. Happy Monday evening, Gershon
Date: 11/9/2020 3:22:00 AM
Sad... so sad. Lost love is so painful... Or unrequited love. God bless you. You're a wonderful poet, friend
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 11/9/2020 4:59:00 PM
And you, Regina, write wonderful comments! Thank you, dear friend. :) gw
Date: 11/8/2020 9:10:00 PM
Maybe that is why I've always preferred men with brown eyes (David's are brown, btw) - those icy blue eyes so sharp -
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 11/9/2020 1:59:00 PM
Never thought about the difference between men's eye color before, Michelle. Thanks for calling it to my attention. Best always, Gershon

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry