Of what I recall, she had dirty feet,
When we met at low tide,
On a sunday shore side,
I knew in an instant,
That she would be my bride,
When I heard her first laugh,
That night in the bath,
I knew even then,
She would be my closest friend,
At her teary eye,
As we lay ‘neath the sky,
I knew without fear,
I would forever hold her dear,
And when I was told,
That day in the cold,
Our time was soon ended,
Her body I tended,
When I am asked since,
What I remember of bliss,
I can only repeat:
Of what I recall, she had dirty feet
Beautiful – gave me chills 🥰
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Thank you, I always enjoy hearing how one of my poems has made someone feel
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Very nice 😊
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Thank you
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Welcome 😊
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Barefoot Countessa, who needs shoes; i love that imagery in love, almost as much as i love footprints! six carriages of masters we carry promise!
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