i can not help myself...
when i think of you...
i think of spring...
and how fragrant is your bloom...
on fields of green...
in stormy nights...
or brackish dawn you are...
delight...
This book has no more entries published after this entry.
Prosebox is an inviting community for those who enjoy journaling and writing. It offers a safe place for members to share their writing anonymously and connect with others who share similar interests.
Resources
2026 © All Rights Reserved. Privacy Policy | Terms of Service
Loading comments...