Scribbler Of Verses Poet I do not know?

Where Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

Scribbling these verses,
caressing your bare back,
simple rhymes,
flowing from my fingertips.


Scribbling verses,
sprinkling odes to fragrant promises,
your smile lightens the burdens,
off my heavy heart.


Scribbling verses,
soaked in countless kisses,
the moonlight waltzing on your skin.


Scribbling verses,
feeling you,
your love never ceases to flow,


through the streams of my mind,
to a place of our own,
where wild violets grow

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Delysia Hendricks March 19, 2013 at 10:52 AM Hey, homeboy!! Greetings from Cape Town. How have I missed reading you thus far? I just had me a good time reading through your earlier works. Explosive stuff, as is this one. Who's a soppy one, then? lol. One comment to all your other poems: Aluta continua, comrade bruv. Your name now graces my "fave author" list. Keep 'em coming. I'm seriously impressed. :) Scribbler Of Verses March 20, 2013 at 12:15 PM Hey, homegirl!!! Greetings straight back to you from Jozi. Thank you, dear Delysia, for your warm, kind, and very generous words about my scribbles ... they steady my pen to scribble some more, and yes, even the soppy stuff ;-) and thank you infinitely much for your even kinder words about the other poems, yes indeed, the struggle continues, and so must we! Hasta la victoria siempre, companero!