skip to main | skip to sidebar

Hunting Lions

Poetry for your heart not for your head.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

Ayin

There are Needles in my fingers
They point to all that lingers
A Menagerie of sound
Like threads that are bound
And Whispers that are kept
From the tears that were wept
Swiped from the Mind that was kept
Upon the Ayin that was Deft
Posted by huntinglions at 10:28 PM

No comments:

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Blog Archive

  • ►  2013 (2)
    • ►  July (2)
  • ►  2011 (1)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ►  2010 (21)
    • ►  October (5)
    • ►  September (2)
    • ►  April (2)
    • ►  March (2)
    • ►  February (5)
    • ►  January (5)
  • ►  2009 (291)
    • ►  December (3)
    • ►  November (12)
    • ►  October (5)
    • ►  September (14)
    • ►  August (23)
    • ►  July (47)
    • ►  June (34)
    • ►  May (29)
    • ►  April (24)
    • ►  March (28)
    • ►  February (32)
    • ►  January (40)
  • ▼  2008 (11)
    • ▼  December (5)
      • A prayer
      • Grandma
      • Our Wedding Day
      • Ayin
      • Sarah's Birthday Poem
    • ►  November (1)
    • ►  July (5)
  • ►  2005 (24)
    • ►  October (1)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  August (2)
    • ►  June (4)
    • ►  May (3)
    • ►  April (6)
    • ►  March (7)

About Me

My photo
huntinglions
View my complete profile