by MerryOarsGlasgow, Strathclyde, Scotland, UK
Mar 2018 466 Views 4 comments
Lui
His eyes can read the lines between
the words I haven't said;
His touch can arc across the room,
short-circuiting my head.
His voice can send my fears to sleep,
and turn my thoughts to bed...
His slow smile is the memory that holds me, in his stead.
the words I haven't said;
His touch can arc across the room,
short-circuiting my head.
His voice can send my fears to sleep,
and turn my thoughts to bed...
His slow smile is the memory that holds me, in his stead.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2018
About this poem:
Just a little fantasy :-)Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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