Spam

patiently you weave the mat
put there the design of life
hope
love
and you color it with a special dye
blood
sweat
tears
and when the mat is finished
you look at it with a certain contentment
all your longings are interwoven

a beautiful mat
where my love can sleep
the mat contains the wind
and the coolness of ferns
the warmth
of two lovers not seeing each other for years

what your neighbors say
do not really matter now

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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