Lie upon a bed of roses
Lie upon a bed of roses
And prick me when I come closer,
But no more shun or I will die.
And prick me when I come closer,
But no more shun or I will die.
posted by Brian Oxley | 10:43 AM
Three Eights
Poetry in three-eights time.
- You must laugh at me
- Once I had a ring
- Ensnared or freed?
- Afterwards
- On writing a French poem
- The portrait
- Sunday
- The letter U
- Feeling loss
- Eight-up
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