Poetry under the palm trees continue….
doors upon the sea
who am i to tell the roses
not to bloom
how do I stop the hands of time
or silence a lonely wolf
howling at the moon
how can i not think of you
it’s like asking my heart
to remember not to bleed
or a pianist who lost his hands
to forget his keys
my beautiful muse
tell me I can lock these thoughts out
convince me
I can put doors upon the sea
.
.
Am I wrong to love my muse?
The Lonely Author 