Writing gracelessly, without particular art or skill, but perhaps some enjoyment.
Lord Byron by Richard Westall Some time ago, I picked up a small book of poetry from a second hand store. It's a charming little thing with a pressed, green canvas cover and gold embossed spine reading, "English Lyrical Verse." Within I found a collection of short poems lovingly compiled by one Sir A. T. … Continue reading She Walks in Beauty – Reading Corner
I crave you. / In quiet stillness / I ache and whine / against the pull in my chest / that yearns, wants, needs, you.
I clung so hard to you / I couldn't let go / and reach for others.
It was shouted as a joke. / You looked at me / but I didn't look at you, / because I knew if I did / I wouldn't be joking.
I’m not used to girls. / I don’t know what touches are normal, / What smiles are friendly, what looks mean nothing / They all sing hope to me...
Fair was she whom I did love / Fair was the time I spent with her / No sweeter a song I'll ever sing / than the taste of her lips
When your hair fell from behind your ear, I didn’t want to tuck it back...
It's an empty ache I can't suppress / no matter how hard I press / against the sides...
Last night I dreamt you were there / You kissed my lips, my face, my hair / I held you close but then you were gone / And I woke with a heart faded and worn
Don't ever fade from me. / I have come to need you / and it is in the quiet of melancholy / that your presence is the greatest comfort...
Balter Through the Pages 
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