Love Poetry For Couple

1 Early Days the billy that rang empty on its hook against the gate post last thing at night was full of the colour of starlight at dawn 2 Originals them kumaras is really gallopin now Mr Kilgour in braces and hobnail boots he'd stamp and click on the path like a horse modestly skittish in its stall when he came over to use our phone party line 796D he shouted as if he believed a hollow and

I like to start my morning walks earlier in late summer before the Hawke�s Bay heat engine gets going and the flies start up. There are people already some with dogs... we smile and exchange handfuls of words. Scratches in the dirt like some post-modernist literary text signify a rabbit and I see the ragwort is making a comeback from spraying and

If you should bury me, as I have requested with my hands clasped, bury me wearing this bird Normal 0 false false false EN-NZ JA X-NONE

If I had a heart I'm sure it would say How lonely its been since you went away, With no one to snuggle and no one to hold. I guess I'll adjust, or so I've been told. It's hard to sit back as the line seems to grow And watch all the flirting, when deep down I know There's nobody there who can know your heart Or feel your thoughts even though apart. To know your thoughts with just one word Without the others being heard. To feel your heart and share what you love Like some magic secret from up above. The music flows and so do the smiles From you to them across the miles. Even our songs that were special there Are followed by smiles for all to share. I guess it's me... I just don't understand You told me you loved me and held my hand. How can I trust anything you say, When I'm yesterdays news the very next day. If I had a heart it would beat in place Instead of having this empty space. And yours would beat along with mine, And I'd be yours til the end o

Implausible Birds by K. Robinson The sort of vase described in Ian McEwan's novel, Atonement. A gift. A curse on me self-cast. A Sino-sin I signed with my intent, and all Verdun's exploding wealth now written in my skin; my brain forever battered by those guns. Or was it a theft? Sometimes a man concussed would seem quite sound, so peaceful in repose. Inside - a soupy

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