Je blogue donc je suis

I

Did I break your heart to night?

For my soul cold white as Snow

I left you for cat’s blue eyes might

And your tears are hurting as blow.

II

Am I fool to think love has died?

For I see it with my own eyes

Indestructible, forever purified,

Passion flame within me, it burns.

III

Let the trees, the stream, the wind

Whisper and tell in a flapping wing

The story of that bleeding flower

For your love-bites are sweet sour.

                                  Herbert French

                                  July 15th, 2011