Love Poetry For Couple

A Jay Feather �for Lynda I know of a wood that hangs like a heavy drape flung over a hill in the midlands. You can hear jays deep in its folds tearing like engines at the fabric of a winter�s day. Way down in the leaf litter, beyond where it is normal or decent for a walker to go, there must be a fragment of that blue, that eye through which you dive on a thread,