Page 17.

The smoke rising from incense give me serendipity as I read psychology.

Love is filling my heart, as I sit alone.

The rose rising from in depth, transforms into lotuses, a garden.

A place that’s fittingly, made for honor –

My mind space, because it desires a partner…

Still, I walk alone with friendships worth needing water…

Flowers glittering, as the spark has been pardoned.

I desire a companion, but still I am alone standing…

No I don’t complain, no that would not be sane.

I am patient in the rain, as the universe brings me what I sing…

I sing about love stories as often as my heart beats hard pounds.

My heart knows harsh sounds, as it was penetrated with hard wounds.

Yet, am walking with much astound!

The heart is much profound.

Serendipity how I feel a breath of a blessing.

I focus on simplicity, and I feel okay in my own presence.

Love is no race, I am waiting for the day.

But until then I play, and wait…

With poetry being my great escape.

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