Union

With my fingers all a quiver
She sings
And we begin our merry dance.
What wondrous chance
Has sought us two out
To come together in this way.
And soft sounds silence the air
As we sway as one
Entwined, a love so rare
My heart-strings pulled, stretched, fulfilled,
Overcome as we ignore all other types.
There’s just me, with you,
My fingers dancing
On my Irish pipes.

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Author: George McDermid

I scratch out poems, and the odd little tale. Mostly for my own amusement.

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