Suddenly the host of angels
have sailed away in their ships
when will they cross my day again?
when will they reach the shore?
I see the years traveling towards their end...
this is in the fenced-off forest of my
inner memories...
where hard pain breaks from soft pain
and the angels are not mine or yours -
As you turn to my smile with penance
I shall keep your tears
and the wound will be clever.
And what will be left?
Whispering Embers. And
the quiver of your tender voice -
written by
Suffolk & Lowestoft
Writers & Poet
Copywriter Uk 2021