The Kinsmen
The face of our kinship
So beautiful and rare
Will stand forever
Gifted of heaven
No earthly care.
Between time and tranquility
A quest for sensibility.
The search for friends a hunger serves
But most, alas, get on my nerves.
Alone in life
What mortal curse
Could scarce be breached
By something worse.
Companions?
One behind each tree...
Is it I, alone, who thinks like me?
My kindred with a wit so free
A heart so pure and true
You conjure up the best in me
I hope the same for you.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
Added by Poetry Lover
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