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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #343421
Poetry from Echo: Was it the end of a dream?...or...
The Rose

His face lies before mine
Scarlet eyes
Soft brown hair
He touches my lips
With a golden kiss
And whispers softly
To the cold night air

How I’d waited for so long
To hear those words…
Am I dreaming?
Did he really say them?
Are we here
Alone
With the sea
And the stars?
Yes…
For I could not have dreamt this
He puts his arms about me
Sheltering
Warming me from the cold
His eyes
His face
I’d not forget
Stay young
As I’d grow old

He holds me
Places his lips to mine
He gently takes my hand
His features so fine
In the pale moonlight
His silhouette
He leads me across the sand

No…
I could not be dreaming
For my eyes
Could never conjure
A man
As fine as this

We stand before my doorstep
And once again his kiss
Just as real
Just as softly
As the first time
He’d pulled me close
And within my hand
Placed delicately
A tiny
Burgundy
Rose

I awaken
With a tear in my eye
He’s gone
Was he ever really here?
The memories
That he’d left behind
So fresh
Like yesterday
How had I created them
In my mind?

Surely
He was just a dream
That I must forget
Gone
Like the summer wind
I hear myself scream
But I must go on
So I turn
To face tomorrow
And pull that door of yesterday
To a close
Not looking back
At the tears I’d shed
But smile instead
At my tightly clutched hand
For within it
Lies
The Rose

No…
It wasn’t a dream at all






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