Pocket Watch Beauty
movingfinger
Posts: 117
Two hands
Between hand and side
As you inhale,
My hands expand
And you slide through the gap
In a mock Andalusian romp.
The gypsy turns and says,
“Strange there is no duende.”
I have caught your hand swinging
And have pressed it against
My heart.
But, the thumping does not feel right
Without the tick and tock
Of your halted song.
Between hand and side
As you inhale,
My hands expand
And you slide through the gap
In a mock Andalusian romp.
The gypsy turns and says,
“Strange there is no duende.”
I have caught your hand swinging
And have pressed it against
My heart.
But, the thumping does not feel right
Without the tick and tock
Of your halted song.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it
-- Omar Khayyam
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it
-- Omar Khayyam
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The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it
-- Omar Khayyam