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Ink Of The Thorn

Tags: love
Contributing Authors: NymphWriter 

As December's frost warms my porridge

My fortunes wed in a thimble of prose

Whittling kibbles of poetry beans

In bittersweet of my scribbling harvest

With verses from a potpourri sewing basket

As my eyes blink still of night

Between winks of an angel's tear

Winter born with ink of the thorn

With the fragrant of her bud

On silken bed of snow

Like soft cashmere on a petal of rose

On a dulcimer's thread of gossamer string

With the needle of chatoyant eye

I pledge to thee my moment of truth

A love that grows with the falling flakes

A bond that strengthens with the rising sun

Gentle caress with warm kisses

Whittling kibbles of poetry beans

Whispering through a bicuspid

Winter born with ink of the thorn



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