Between the Lines
I watch, another day goes by
and rains continue on.
The moldiness keeps creeping in,
no sunrise in the dawn.
The dampness wrinkles thoughts I wear,
My stomach turns in knots forsaking
more the same to numb.
I'm missing all the warmth of once,
the longing, driven feel.
The moonlit nights of self-return
from sonnets in the real.
I praise the moments softness held,
the clearings of the mist.
And all the whiles of innocense
in loving, reminisced.
I seek the shelter from without,
within, when storm's died down,
collecting recall, ribbon placed
in rainbow colors, bound.
"Love is not blind - It sees more and not less, but because it sees more, it is willing to see less."