Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

walking accross the little courtyard
so many crows arguing in the sky
wet in the pool
warm releasing steam rising thru
the body every pore
the trees and wind seem confused
about what they are doing
no one says anything except
'i can hear them from here'
the reasons for the gray skies
stormy weather and lies lies lies
hold me close
i wonder if love was made of this
and that
the shadow of gloomy lovers
lost in the wind
i lick the ice cream
in memory of love
and feel the cold
go down my throat

what is love made of?
it's made of magic,
lots of luck
and poetry

what is poetry made of?

the magic will always be there
but luck runs out.

you have to really want it
if you can't find the magic again
then your just running on luck

poetry is magic, luck and love.

Thank you
Want plenty poetry and lots of love
Looks kind of like I got that...

Oops