“How much…”
How sweet is it to be loved
By you,
It can’t be measured
Too,
It least it can’t be measured
By you,
The reason why it can’t be
Measured any day,
Is because you can’t measure how
Much,
You take my breath
Away.
“How much…”
How sweet is it to be loved
By you,
It can’t be measured
Too,
It least it can’t be measured
By you,
The reason why it can’t be
Measured any day,
Is because you can’t measure how
Much,
You take my breath
Away.
Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
If I had it all to do over again | 0 | 07/21/2009 |
Because she takes my breath away | 1 | 06/17/2009 |
Be my Valentine | 1 | 06/16/2009 |
“How much…” | 0 | 06/14/2009 |
Speechless In Seattle | 0 | 06/12/2009 |
How many times a day | 0 | 06/10/2009 |
Always the same | 0 | 06/09/2009 |
The first time | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
Nicoella | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
China-Black | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
“Count the ways” | 0 | 06/06/2009 |
The First Time | 2 | 06/06/2009 |
“I am looking for Miss Wright” | 1 | 06/06/2009 |
What makes a person human? | 0 | 06/03/2009 |
You will always be the best? | 0 | 06/03/2009 |
May the 14th | 2 | 06/03/2009 |
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