July 17, 2024 by Shiva Sharan Gardener’s Prose Musings, Verses love, muse Leave a comment A thought grows, As it lurks and arises Feeble as a bee And stinging as a roar, As it makes best friends with you And you’re left with no choice – But to give in, And seek out. Share this: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Like Loading... Related