I bite my lip
with hope of a kiss
That may never arrive
I believe in it
Like a white Christmas
Or three bowls of porridge
It’s fleeting these days
I haven’t been able to catch hold
A place where you can be human.
I bite my lip
with hope of a kiss
That may never arrive
I believe in it
Like a white Christmas
Or three bowls of porridge
It’s fleeting these days
I haven’t been able to catch hold
Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with. View more posts