Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Heart-Hand

Cradling the heart in the middle of thorns
Walking in a minefield, the Young Fool mourns
Stepping on explosions, explosions at bay
Emotions exploding, exploding on delay

Patience is learned, the Young Fool said
the Young Fool knows, by patience he bled
His heart-hand bleeds, a smile on his face
His smile a sign of knowledge of her ways

The Sun shines, but not everyday
Everyday the sun, but sometimes dismay
And he knows this, for he is her lover
With a crying smile, he waits for whenever