words, like silk, flow from your lips
mine, a little garbled, as I shoot from the hip
the meaning is clear, what can I say
the kiss is sweet, before you walk away
winters gray wall, a chill in the air
embers heat warmly, so we don't care
city lights at twilight, from frosted window panes
while love moves onward, with the same refrain
it all comes down to the balancing act
keeping it steady, dealing in facts
all the ghosts, quietly packed away
as the sun rises bright, on yet another day
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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