Poetry of John Shaw

      A Thought


      A thought once conjured
      of you and without
      brushed by my mind
      like a gentile breeze blown about
      the silent sands of wishful doubt
      of you
      of me
      of hearts
      of love
      of intensions and desires from the heavens above
      Such doubt though there
      care not I care
      for the being of you
      so love taught and fine fair
      makes me so untied
      that I feel I'm there
      So much so
      that I can grab
      the end
      the beginning
      the whole space of life
      twist and embrace it
      then dream it my wife
      yes you are my doubt
      now withstanding but true
      you are also my dreams
      which is why I love you


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