the dance of the ink riddled fingers

the sun sets

Posted in 52 pickup, the poet-tree by enisea on 21/12/2009

Somehow, my amazing morning has snowballed into something reasonably upset.  I don’t want the sun to set because I can’t unfurrow my brow and I do and don’t want to fall into oblivion.

Roses are dead
Violently blue
But falling apart
Is not what I do 

4 Let those who fear the LORD say:
       “His love endures forever.”
5 In my anguish I cried to the LORD,
       and he answered by setting me free.
 8 It is better to take refuge in the LORD
       than to trust in man. [Psalm118]

Make me stronger,
Love Devine.
Build bravery upon me;
Let your joy be mine.


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