It’s not patience
that makes the cup
hold the tea, it’s
simple practicality.
Not love that makes
bowl hold ripened fruit.
But it is patience
that holds the phone
and says I miss you.
It’s love that doesn’t
hold at all.
April 18, 2017 by Rosemerry
It’s not patience
that makes the cup
hold the tea, it’s
simple practicality.
Not love that makes
bowl hold ripened fruit.
But it is patience
that holds the phone
and says I miss you.
It’s love that doesn’t
hold at all.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged holding, love, poem, poetry | Leave a Comment
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