Best Poem of M.. BERRYANN

A Sunday Morning Love Song
Warm February wishes ride the breeze
While our window breathes just a bit,
I smell the rain that wakes the trees
From this bedroom, ever so slightly lit,
I kiss your cheek, still dreaming at ease,
The sleeping beauty you emit,
The meaning in my life, I cling to these:
Your spirit, your touch, your . . .
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It's Love
God's greatest gift, the devil said,
A work in progress, dubbed love,
From a baby's bed, to a coffin's dead,
Every pair of wings takes the traveler below or above.

Sometimes life seems to make sense,
Like getting lost somewhere is funny at first,
The dog is dense, the cat was granted a better . . .
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