Of poetry and your sweet voice
did I, this morning,
pass glad moments
nay, lifetimes,
listening to,
lying in the half dawn
sprawled upon my bed
wishing, oh wishing
that you were by my side-
my head pillowed on your chest,
fingers dancing an odd dance
of love
here and there...
first on your brow
and then
lower, caressing
the lips that spoke such poetry.
And I lie there
lost in the dream, a smile
touching emerald eyes.
Listening still
to words long dead, but still alive
in your heart, your voice
and as the silence once more creeps
I cannot move.
There still, I lie
surrounded by echoes
and ever so softly
feel your heart
move within mine.
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