Sipping tea, I started. The pages, in a book, I turned. The letters, I read. My mind; dead. Of her, I thought. Another sip, I took. At the words, I look. Anything but register, they would. I struggled. Anything but read, I could. Of her, I thought. Her voice, I recalled. My heart, a fire … More confession of an emotion, my first poem.
Keeping my balance on the jetty was hard however keeping my cool when walking along a pretty girl required a state of mind. “On 3” I said; as I was adjusting the water mask. My heart was pounding double time. Her smile shined as the sun rays struck her teeth, reflected back onto my sight blinding … More Icke is a girl, the day I met her was a good day; so has everyday.