Here In The Garden Of Our Hearts
a turbulence of blue
my eyes fill
when I see the last of you
here in a place of
honey bees nursing nectar
in violet fields
the green of life swallows
my lips quake with the
crush of memory
your life is a
flood which drowns
though now extinguished
the valley of our time
is never forgotten
I am speaking to you
hear me
in the night I feel
the kneading of your feet
and wonder at the distance
between here and infinity
do you ever travel home
and how often
death is be a blow
which injures and then reinjures again
I guess at what I do not know
but as I stand here now
a zephyr lifts the hair from my face
and dries my tears
you must have done that
you always comforted me
you comfort me still
Copyright May 31, 2014/All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells/Meloo/Tilt-a-World
Vote for this poem
|