Tuesday 17 February 2015

18th February 2015

Wordsmith

Practicing your alchemy, wooing me with words,
changing leaden lumpy text into streams of gold,
you enthrall me, hypnotise me, weave me in your spell
within the hidden meanings my fate you will foretell.

'Fine words butter no parsnips' Granny used to say,
she was wrong, the passion strong, my life no longer grey.
I walk in dreams, my head is filled with words meant just for me
pour molten gold into my soul for all eternity.

4 comments:

  1. The 2nd bit reads like a Mills & Boon!

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  2. I wonder who this is about? Straight from the heart!! I like it

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  3. Reminds me of Roberta Flack's 'Killing Me Softly'

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  4. It started off as a tongue in cheek tribute to JG I need to work on it.

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