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christmas poetry

short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
dans sa tente gardée
passé persistant de thou
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
mais alas, rêves justes
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
du soleil ni des étoiles
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
pour puis en dehors
soyez patient, la vie, quand l'amour est à la porte


 



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