Poem -
Measures
And, because of the
very measure of my love
I cannot put you down
nor can I bring you up
we are simply left in limbo
a balloon you are not
If I was born to love you
I will die loving you
alas, from near or far
when the wind blows north
my heart will blow onto yours
and I may just float, perhaps?
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Comments
Hello Shirley...
Did you see the guy who had a Bunch of Helium Balloons tied to his Chair?
Did he land in the Pool?
Those that do, should...
Those that don't, shouldn't...
Great write!
Thank you for sharing...
sparrowsong Ice Queen
Thank you. 🌹
'99 Red Balloons.' A Lovely Verse. 🩵
I speak of home here. Thank you dear friend. 🌹
I couldn't speak of the one I read before this, but this is superb. And I just like to that the word limbo is superb. Let us all never find ourselves!
Or home in my case, thank you dearest Rory, where ever we find love be it with a place a person a season or other it's still love, and it is certainly within us. Thank you dear friend. 🌹
Beautiful write love x
Thank you dear Marion, in this poem I'm speaking of London but it's lovely that people see other things of love. 🌹