My soul looks for new insight

By a  lonely stone,I wept,for I knew
My hoping tool had gone
My soul was a widow
Whichj  groaned
My whole being was on fire for
My whole had  made him stare,yet
My soul reached doubt in the night
My soul looks for new insight,yet
My stomach was tied up with bots from the computer and I felt very queer

My tears fell like pain
My blundering sole fell out of the ftying pan….
No one undervalues tea
No one true love is perfect
She wore pearls  strung on twine

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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