Hateful words spun vengefully, an intricate design
by Rose Ann Haeussler
of false hope.
Entwined in lost desire, left for us to cope.
We used to be best friends, like earth signs
Our love became a romantic hymn of a majestic
You the water that nourished me, and I the land
that kept your form.
Deep within my crusted heart, your liquid was
The music that our love made, was like celestrial
harps in tune.
Adding symmentry to our lives, like Summer days
Now those strings that chimed sweet tones,
have stretched beyond repair.
Like Weeping Willows that feel winter's icy
Kiss, of frost within the air.
The cold way that we treat ourselves, has left
only bitter regrets.
Revengeful, spiteful, memories...that is not
the way we met!
No longer do we have strong lines, of trust to
attach the delicate strains.
Just a potrait of forgotten love that holds two