Only a Smile
No butterfly whose frugal fare
Is breath of heliotrope and clove,
And other trifles light as air,
Could live on less than doth my love.
That childlike smile that comes and goes
About your gracious lips and eyes,
Hath all the sweetness of the rose,
Which feeds the freckled butterflies.
I feed my love on smiles, and yet
Sometimes I ask, with tears of woe,
How had it been if we had met,
If you had met me long ago,
Before the fast, defacing years
Had made all ill that once was well?
Ah, then your smiling breeds such tears
As Tantalus may weep in hell.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Years of Tears
Years of tears for no ears to hear, lonely for years am I
Years of tears for no ears to hear in silence they dropp and die
Years of tears, hidden deep, I cannot weep, nor cry.
Years of tears, for many fears of dying alone, I sigh.
Years of tears which no one hears as many years go by.
Years of tears in the lonely sky, my tears grow wings and fly.
Years of tears, my smile shines, through its little lines, I lie.
Years of tears, my somber peers through my melancholy eye
Tears of tears, Years of Years, in my soul, I tie.
Years of tears for no ears to hear my tears weep goodbye….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reason To smile
How can one smile such sweet smiles,
When one is so saddened by sorrows for miles,
How can I smile the same smiles,
When life brings me nothing but tears,
I wondered for so long,
What reason you had to smile that long,
To keep smiling though troubles come,
And still remain sweet and silently overcome,
It's such a mystery to me,
Your smiles from heaven with glee,
I adore and yet envy thee,
But I'd rather you smile those at me,
I feel happy when I see you smile,
Even if I'm sad and lonely,
Your smiles bring me somewhere,
I don't even know where,
But it was you,
You gave me the reason to smile,
To smile with no reason,
To smile for a smile,
I guess life is just like that,
We need not a reason to smile,
For a smile is the reason itself,
To rejoice and open-heartedly give thanks,
I learned to smile because of you,
Because your smiles bring me joy when blue,
It proves how well and powerful,
A simple sweet smile can become so beautiful,
Smile for the sake of a smile,
Smile for the sake of happiness,
Smile for the sake of life,
Smile because of hope left in life,
Smile my friends,
Smile for me my Love,
Smile those same sweet smiles,
Smile so the world can be a peaceful dove...
poem by Lost Butterfly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
1st Love
Never thought I would fall in love
I’m the kind of girl who never gets it right
who can't find her way
Who hopes eventually she'll be okay.
Dreamt of my night in shinning armour
My own Cinderella story
But I knew fairy tales never came true
Not for a girl like me
I always thought I would stand alone
The world against me
Never thought love would find me
Then came a guy who
Never swept me of my feet
I didn’t fall in love at 1st sight
didn’t see the stars
Or feel the world stop
Never knew he would be the one
Looking on the sweet moments
Cant help but smile
my prince never swept me off my feet
Never made me swoon
Or bend to my will
He matched my anger
And my passion
Made me smile
And cry
Laugh and scream
He pushed me as far as I could go
And still I loved him
So the small bliss in a lovers kiss
A gentle touch sends a shiver
A small smile just 1
Just for me
Sweet words whispered in twilight
Stolen hours by the sunlight
The tears came as fast as the smiles
He made me cry
Broke my heart and left me to bleed
Yet I still love him
Through the tears I see the smiles
The broken heart bleeds the memories
The kisses and the butterflies
If I fell I knew it was for him
A smile in a blizzard of tears
My light in the darkest hour
The guy who makes me smile through the tears
My prince did sweep me off my feet
And make my world spin
I just didn’t know it
He was my gentle conqueror
Even as I think back to the times we shared
I cant help but smile
Even when the song has long since sung the last symphony
The music still remains in the air
Just a distant beat
A sweet note just one
For my true love an me
Our story shall live through the ripples of memories
Of those who knew us
Love found is a gift
Love given is faith
Love lost is pain
Love felt in eternal
poem by Asha vijeshing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Is There A Bitter Pang For Love Removed
Is there a bitter pang for love removed,
O God! The dead love doth not cost more tears
Than the alive, the loving, the beloved—
Not yet, not yet beyond all hopes and fears!
Would I were laid
Under the shade
Of the calm grave, and the long grass of years,—
That love might die with sorrow:—I am sorrow;
And she, that loves me tenderest, doth press
Most poison from my cruel lips, and borrow
Only new anguish from the old caress;
Oh, this world's grief
Hath no relief
In being wrung from a great happiness.
Would I had never filled thine eyes with love,
For love is only tears: would I had never
Breathed such a curse-like blessing as we prove;
Now, if 'Farewell' could bless thee, I would sever!
Would I were laid
Under the shade
Of the cold tomb, and the long grass forever!
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rondel
THESE many years since we began to be,
What have the gods done with us? what with me,
What with my love? they have shown me fates and fears,
Harsh springs, and fountains bitterer than the sea,
Grief a fixed star, and joy a vane that veers,
These many years.
With her, my love, with her have they done well?
But who shall answer for her? who shall tell
Sweet things or sad, such things as no man hears?
May no tears fall, if no tears ever fell,
From eyes more dear to me than starriest spheres
These many years!
But if tears ever touched, for any grief,
Those eyelids folded like a white-rose leaf,
Deep double shells wherethrough the eye-flower peers,
Let them weep once more only, sweet and brief,
Brief tears and bright, for one who gave her tears
These many years.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature that Washed Her Hands in Milk
Nature, that washed her hands in milk,
And had forgot to dry them,
Instead of earth took snow and silk,
At love's request to try them,
If she a mistress could compose
To please love's fancy out of those.
Her eyes he would should be of light,
A violet breath, and lips of jelly;
Her hair not black, nor overbright,
And of the softest down her belly;
As for her inside he'd have it
Only of wantonness and wit.
At love's entreaty such a one
Nature made, but with her beauty
She hath framed a heart of stone;
So as Love, by ill destiny,
Must die for her whom nature gave him
Because her darling would not save him.
But time, which nature doth despise
And rudely gives her love the lie,
Makes hope a fool, and sorrow wise,
His hands do neither wash nor dry;
But being made of steel and rust,
Turns snow and silk and milk to dust.
The light, the belly, lips, and breath,
He dims, discolors, and destroys;
With those he feeds but fills not death,
Which sometimes were the food of joys.
Yea, time doth dull each lively wit,
And dries all wantonness with it.
Oh, cruel time, which takes in trust
Our youth, or joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reason to smile
How can one smile such sweet smiles,
When one is so saddened by sorrows for miles,
How can I smile the same smiles,
When life brings me nothing but tears,
I wondered for so long,
What reason you had to smile that long,
To keep smiling though troubles come,
And still remain sweet and silently overcome,
It's such a mystery to me,
Your smiles from heaven with glee,
I adore and yet envy thee,
But I'd rather you smile those at me,
I feel happy when I see you smile,
Even if I'm sad and lonely,
Your smiles bring me somewhere,
I don't even know where,
But it was you,
You gave me the reason to smile,
To smile with no reason,
To smile for a smile,
I guess life is just like that,
We need not a reason to smile,
For a smile is the reason itself,
To rejoice and open-heartedly give thanks,
I learned to smile because of you,
Because your smiles bring me joy when blue,
It proves how well and powerful,
A simple sweet smile can become so beautiful,
Smile for the sake of a smile,
Smile for the sake of happiness,
Smile for the sake of life,
Smile because of hope left in life,
Smile my friends,
Smile for me my Love,
Smile those same sweet smiles,
Smile so the world can be a peaceful dove...
poem by Brittney Tillery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reason to Smile
How can one smile such sweet smiles,
When one is so saddened by sorrows for miles,
How can I smile the same smiles,
When life brings me nothing but tears,
I wondered for so long,
What reason you had to smile that long,
To keep smiling though troubles come,
And still remain sweet and silently overcome,
It's such a mystery to me,
Your smiles from heaven with glee,
I adore and yet envy thee,
But I'd rather you smile those at me,
I feel happy when I see you smile,
Even if I'm sad and lonely,
Your smiles bring me somewhere,
I don't even know where,
But it was you,
You gave me the reason to smile,
To smile with no reason,
To smile for a smile,
I guess life is just like that,
We need not a reason to smile,
For a smile is the reason itself,
To rejoice and open-heartedly give thanks,
I learned to smile because of you,
Because your smiles bring me joy when blue,
It proves how well and powerful,
A simple sweet smile can become so beautiful,
Smile for the sake of a smile,
Smile for the sake of happiness,
Smile for the sake of life,
Smile because of hope left in life,
Smile my friends,
Smile for me my Love,
Smile those same sweet smiles,
Smile so the world can be a peaceful dove...
poem by Lendl Ian Servillon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Licia Sonnets 05
Love with her hair my love by force hath tied,
To serve her lips, her eyes, her voice, her hand;
I smiled for joy, when I the boy espied
To lie unchained and live at her command.
She if she look, or kiss, or sing, or smile,
Cupid withal doth smile, doth sing, doth kiss,
Lips, hands, voice, eyes, all hearts that may beguile,
Because she scorns all hearts but only this.
Venus for this in pride began to frown
That Cupid, born a god, enthralled should be.
She in disdain her pretty son threw down,
And in his place, with love she chainéd me.
So now, sweet love, though I myself be thrall,
Not her a goddess, but thyself I call.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly Friend
Butterfly friend, how well do I know you
How long will you stay is the question I ask
Butterfly friend how well do you know me
How long will you love me
Do I love you too?
Butterfly friend, there poised in the shadows
Which of the blooms gives the scent you prefer?
Butterfly friend from flower to flower.....
How long will you love me
Do I love you too?
You of the beautiful bright coloured wings
Take of my sweetness:
Soar to the sky
Whilst I, on the sidelines, keep track of your flight
Take of my sweetness
And fly!
Butterfly friend no more in the shadows
Free from the flowers now faded and pale
Butterfly friend I know that you love me
You ask if I love you?
You know that I do.
poem by Margaret Kollmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Keep Smiling :)
When you feel
Too much of pain
And there’s nothing
To say.
Just keep smiling :)
May be, the tears
Would go away
One day, if not today.
Smile through the tears
Let them stay
Let them love your smiles
And love you so much
That they'll ebb away
And leave you in peace…
Some blessed day.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Siste Viator
WHAT is it that is dead?
Somewhere there is a grave, and something lies
Cold in the ground, and stirs not for my sighs,
Nor songs that I can make, nor smiles from me,
Nor tenderest foolish words that I have said;
Something that was has hushed, and will not be.
Did it go yesterday?
Or did it wane away with the old years?
There hath not been farewell, nor watchers' tears,
Nor hopes, nor vain reprieves, nor strife with death,
Nor lingering in a meted out delay;
None closed the eyes nor felt the latest breath.
But, be there joyous skies,
It is not in their sunshine; in the night
It is not in the silence, and the light
Of all the silver stars; the flowers asleep
Dream no more of it, nor their morning eyes
Betray the secrets it has bidden them keep.
Birds that go singing now
Forget it and leave sweetness meaningless;
The fitful nightingale, that feigns distress
To sing it all away, flows on by rote;
The seeking lark, in very heaven, I trow,
Shall find no memory to inform her note.
The voices of the shore
Chime not with it for burden; in the wood,
Where it has soul of the vast solitude,
It hath forsook the stillness; dawn and day
And the deep-thoughted dusk know it no more;
It is no more the freshness of the May.
Joy hath it not for heart;
Nor music for its second, subtler, tongue,
Sounding what music's self hath never sung;
Nor very Sorrow needs it help her weep.
Vanished from everywhere! what was a part
Of all and everywhere; lost into sleep!
What was it ere it went?
Whence had it birth? What is its name to call,
That gone unmissed has left a want in all?
Or shall I cry on Youth, in June-time still?
Or cry on Hope, who long since am content?
Or Love, who hold him ready at my will?
What is it that is dead?
Breath of a flower? sea-freshness on a wind?
Oh, dearest, what is that that we should find,
If you and I at length could win it back?
What have we lost and know not it hath fled?
Heart of my heart, could it be love we lack?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Tears Me Up
I see you walk with him
I see you talk to him
It tears me up, oh, it tears me up
And I cant stop crying
Oh, baby, I cant stop crying
I see you kiss his lips
And squeeze his fingertips
It tears me up, oh, baby, it tears me up
And theres nothing I can do about it
Oh, baby, baby, cant you see Im still in love with you
Its a faithless world were livin in
When I turn around and there you are with my best friend
Sometimes when you pass me on the street
You look at me as if to say Im sorry my sweet
And being sorry might be enough
Then you look back at him and [ ? ] a smile
And that makes me feel kinda rough
Oh, darlin, it tears me up
I see you smile at him
You never tire of him
It tears me up
Oh, baby, it tears me up
Theres nothing I can do about it
Baby, cant you see Im still in love with you
Still hungry for something I cant have
Oh, it tears me up so bad
Still hungry for something I cant have
Tears me up so bad
Cant you see Im still in love with you
Still hungry for something I cant have
Baby, please, please, please
Im still hungry for something I cant have
It tears me up so bad
Oh, oh, it tears me up so bad
Tears me up so bad
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It Tears Me Up (live)
I see you walk with him
I see you talk to him
It tears me up, oh, it tears me up
And I can't stop crying
Oh, baby, I can't stop crying
I see you kiss his lips
And squeeze his fingertips
It tears me up, oh, baby, it tears me up
And there's nothing I can do about it
Oh, baby, baby, can't you see I'm still in love with you
It's a faithless world we're livin' in
When I turn around and there you are with my best friend
Sometimes when you pass me on the street
You look at me as if to say I'm sorry my sweet
And being sorry might be enough
Then you look back at him and [ ? ] a smile
And that makes me feel kinda rough
Oh, darlin, it tears me up
I see you smile at him
You never tire of him
It tears me up
Oh, baby, it tears me up
There's nothing I can do about it
Baby, can't you see I'm still in love with you
Still hungry for something I can't have
Oh, it tears me up so bad
Still hungry for something I can't have
Tears me up so bad
Can't you see I'm still in love with you
Still hungry for something I can't have
Baby, please, please, please
I'm still hungry for something I can't have
It tears me up so bad
Oh, oh, it tears me up so bad
Tears me up so bad
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Honey Lips
Honey Lips feed butterflies,
One by one as they fly by.
They stop to rest a spell,
Honey Lips feed them well.
Feeding them all the same,
Not even knowing a title
or name.
Gathering them in a swell,
Honey Lips feed them well.
The monarch, most beautiful
to see,
It could be you probably me.
They need the sun to warm them
fast,
So nectar Honey Lips will last.
To Honey Lips this is a game,
Treating butterflies, all the
same.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hope Dieth: Hope Liveth
Strong are thine arms, O love, & strong
Thine heart to live, and love, and long;
But thou art wed to grief and wrong:
Live, then, and long, though hope be dead!
Live on, & labour thro’ the years!
Make pictures through the mist of tears,
Of unforgotten happy fears,
That crossed the time ere hope was dead.
Draw near the place where once we stood
Amid delight’s swift-rushing flood,
And we and all the world seemed good
Nor needed hope now cold and dead.
Dream in the dawn I come to thee
Weeping for things that may not be!
Dream that thou layest lips on me!
Wake, wake to clasp hope’s body dead!
Count o’er and o’er, and one by one
The minutes of the happy sun
That while agone on kissed lips shone,
Count on, rest not, for hope is dead.
Weep, though no hair’s breadth thou shalt move
The living Earth, the heaven above
By all the bitterness of love!
Weep and cease not, now hope is dead!
Sighs rest thee not, tears bring no ease,
Life hath no joy, and Death no peace:
The years change not, though they decrease,
For hope is dead, for hope is dead.
Speak, love, I listen: far away
I bless the tremulous lips, that say,
“Mock not the afternoon of day,
Mock not the tide when hope is dead!”
I bless thee, O my love, who say’st:
“Mock not the thistle-cumbered waste;
I hold Love’s hand, and make no haste
Down the long way, now hope is dead.
With other names do we name pain,
The long years wear our hearts in vain.
Mock not our loss grown into gain,
Mock not our lost hope lying dead.
Our eyes gaze for no morning-star,
No glimmer of the dawn afar;
Full silent wayfarers we are
Since ere the noon-tide hope lay dead.
Behold with lack of happiness
The master, Love, our hearts did bless
Lest we should think of him the less:
Love dieth not, though hope is dead!”
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Am I Evil?
Years of living peril and anguish cease
When evil was killed, by my senseless wrath
As his eyes closed and his heart decease
I smirked I smiled and innocently laughed
This man was evil and deserved to die
He made my sins look common and mundane
Deceiving all with his clandestine lie
Vulgarizing life that was holy he hath profane
The moisture of mankind as they woefully cry.
Over his sins, over the souls he doth steal
From loved ones whom love naught now
All the life of love, and its ardent zeal
This man took by the hand of death and how?
He killed, pillaged and with life he stripped
With rage in his eyes as red as fire
He strangled and with knife in hand ripped
The flesh of love, the flesh of desire
With no conscience to judge or heart to feel
This man was evil for evil in him doth be
The dead man, for death in him was real
And death all around him is all he did see…
But his wife sobs and his son doth weep
And in me I marvel at death and happy to kill
Does evil cry? No! than why doth people cry over evil
And me cry naught; did the devil tempt me?
Is evil like a disease, that is contagious and viral?
Hath evil infected me, could I evil, truelly be?
For they weep for an evil man
And no man weep for me, and me not weep
I am evil, for this man's evil doth evil be
in me in my will deep....
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Astarte
ACROSS the dripping ridges,
O, look, luxurious night!
She comes, the bright-haired beauty,
My luminous delight!
My luminous delight!
So hush, ye shores, your roar,
That my soul may sleep, forgetting
Dead Love’s wild Nevermore!
Astarte, Syrian sister,
Your face is wet with tears;
I think you know the secret
One heart hath held for years!
One heart hath held for years!
But hide your hapless love,
And my sweet—my Syrian sister,
Dead Love’s wild Nevermore!
Ah, Helen Hope in heaven,
My queen of long ago,
I’ve swooned with adoration,
But could not tell you so,
Or dared not tell you so,
My radiant queen of yore!
And you’ve passed away and left me
Dead Love’s wild Nevermore!
Astarte knoweth, darling,
Of eyes that once did weep,
What time entranced Passion
Hath kissed your lips in sleep;
Hath kissed your lips in sleep;
But now those tears are o’er,
Gone, my saint, with many a moan to
Dead Love’s wild Nevermore!
If I am past all crying,
What thoughts are maddening me,
Of you, my darling, dying
Upon the lone, wide sea,
Upon the lone, wide sea,
Ah! hush, ye shores, your roar,
That my soul may sleep, forgetting
Dead Love’s wild Nevermore!
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hermaphroditus
I.
LIFT UP thy lips, turn round, look back for love,
Blind love that comes by night and casts out rest;
Of all things tired thy lips look weariest,
Save the long smile that they are wearied of.
Ah sweet, albeit no love be sweet enough,
Choose of two loves and cleave unto the best;
Two loves at either blossom of thy breast
Strive until one be under and one above.
Their breath is fire upon the amorous air,
Fire in thine eyes and where thy lips suspire:
And whosoever hath seen thee, being so fair,
Two things turn all his life and blood to fire;
A strong desire begot on great despair,
A great despair cast out by strong desire.
II.
Where between sleep and life some brief space is,
With love like gold bound round about the head,
Sex to sweet sex with lips and limbs is wed,
Turning the fruitful feud of hers and his
To the waste wedlock of a sterile kiss;
Yet from them something like as fire is shed
That shall not be assuaged till death be dead,
Though neither life nor sleep can find out this.
Love made himself of flesh that perisheth
A pleasure-house for all the loves his kin;
But on the one side sat a man like death,
And on the other a woman sat like sin.
So with veiled eyes and sobs between his breath
Love turned himself and would not enter in.
III.
Love, is it love or sleep or shadow or light
That lies between thine eyelids and thine eyes?
Like a flower laid upon a flower it lies,
Or like the night’s dew laid upon the night.
Love stands upon thy left hand and thy right,
Yet by no sunset and by no moonrise
Shall make thee man and ease a woman’s sighs,
Or make thee woman for a man’s delight.
To what strange end hath some strange god made fair
The double blossom of two fruitless flowers?
Hid love in all the folds of all thy hair,
Fed thee on summers, watered thee with showers,
Given all the gold that all the seasons wear
To thee that art a thing of barren hours?
IV.
Yea, love, I see; it is not love but fear.
Nay, sweet, it is not fear but love, I know;
Or wherefore should thy body’s blossom blow
So sweetly, or thine eyelids leave so clear
Thy gracious eyes that never made a tear—
Though for their love our tears like blood should flow,
Though love and life and death should come and go,
So dreadful, so desirable, so dear?
Yea, sweet, I know; I saw in what swift wise
Beneath the woman’s and the water’s kiss
Thy moist limbs melted into Salmacis,
And the large light turned tender in thine eyes,
And all thy boy’s breath softened into sighs;
But Love being blind, how should he know of this?
Au Musée du Louvre, Mars 1863.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ghost Of The Beautiful Past
Ghost of the beautiful past, of the days long gone, of a queen, of a fair sweet woman.
Ghost with the passionate eyes, how proud, yet not too proud to have wept, to have loved, since to love is human.
Angel in fair white garments, with skirts of lawn, by the autumn wind on the pathway fluttered,
Always close by the castle wall and about to speak. But the whisper dies on her lips unuttered.
Yellow leaves deep strewn on the sward, dead leaves of a far--off glorious summer.
Yea, the leaves of the roses she plucked, petal by petal, with beating heart, for him the delayed loved comer.
Why doth she weep thus year on year? He hath tarried long, ah me, a thousand desolate years.
Why doth she weep? She hath wept enough. For see, dark down in the gardens dim, a lake. It is filled with her tears.
If I should ask her name, her title with men? But I need not ask it. I know it, alas, of old, though of old unspoken.
Is there another name but one for that face divine, for those sad sweet lips, like a bow unbent, like a bent bow broken?
No, it is none but her's, the Queen, the beloved of all, the beloved of one, when the Table Round was set in thy mead, Carleon.
None but hers, who was Guenevere, when the trumpets blew and the knights full clad rode down to joust at noon, with their clamorous shout, ``The Queen!''
Doth she remember all, or is all forgotten, pennon proud and lance in rest, the thunder of hoofs and the light swift tread of the foremost runner?
Dareth she raise her eyes, those passionate eyes, at the crowd that gazed? None of them all might meet her look, save he, her one true passionate knight, who adoring won her.
Surely, surely, she seeth; she knoweth all; she is no lost vision of death.
She hath still a smile deep hidden. She hath a name on her lips. She shall sigh, she shall speak, she shall move, when the light winds breathe from the Western Seas with the Spring that quickeneth.
Oh, she shall laugh and sing, though the shadow of Death be a cloud behind her!
Oh, she shall love! Though the dragon of grief keep watch, he shall sleep when the trees in the mead grow green, and awaking he shall not find her.
Read me a sweeter meaning, O Lady, O thou whom I serve, of this pictured story.
Read. Nay the tale is told. To it's truth I swear, by my sword, by my knightly faith, by the fame of the King and the Table Round, and the souls of the Saints in glory!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!