She tries to remember all the beautiful sounds,
the choir of the morning birds,
the melody of laughter all around.
Yet, she recollects only one, her drug of choice,
the sound of his voice.
~The H Word~ by Hazel Urquhart
"Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood" ~ T.S. Eliot
She tries to remember all the beautiful sounds,
the choir of the morning birds,
the melody of laughter all around.
Yet, she recollects only one, her drug of choice,
the sound of his voice.
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Poignant