Poems from spyrkle
To the girl with hair like the sun,
to the girl whose voice reaches out to the angels.
I cannot speak.
Words washed away
by sweat of each...
your hands are warm,
they never harm.
your eyes look at
me, and in that
smile of yours I
see the present
behind your back -
a sneak attack...
dark fades as she shines
a knight of silver
empty vessel made
by uncaring hands
who fights forever
so dark and whispers
of tempting new...
It’s all so cold
lost and lonely, veiled by frost-
be quiet, I’m told
never speak up, no cost
never any loss-
untouched in gold gleaming
a...