Corvine 2

A tapping sound against the empty pane
of glass; a writer’s friend has come to call

The winter’s winds have left his food beyond
his reach today. So, have my lunch my friend

On darkened wings, I feel my lover’s kiss
embrace my thoughts, my pen keeps writing on

until no words remain. A hurried kiss
that’s lost in time when work has done its day

The writer yields his heart to her and once
again, she gently sooths his soul from pain

© JG Farmer 2017
Form: Blank Verse Couplets with Enjambment

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