Could I?
Could I be a book of some sort,
That could interest you Oh Lord?
Or a scent of some rose…
That could adorn a soulful prose?
Could I be a patient ink-horn,
That could kiss those pages torn?
In the bewilderness of baffled evenings…
Or a musical note escaping the walls of your heart’s fort?
Could I be the warmth of that winter sun,
That could soothe your soul from old cold burns?
Or maybe some thirsty droplets…
Lost in the maze of your black ringlets?
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