Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Time

by Martin Tomlinson

A kind of sandglass, moving
As I sit awaiting the falling of an empty glass

In an armchair waiting,
for my love's true face to show

But all around me
voices sing
their melodies
with empty ear

Love

Nothing
is
as gentle

As
a kiss
in the night

Nothing
is
as sweet

As
our moving
sweeping dance.

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