Letter to….
My inspiration…., dear loving friend.
Your eloquent words are not what they mean to be.
Each one filled with fear and memories
Speak them,
Hold my hand ,
Soothe me.“How can you care so much about someone you don’t know?”
Is this what you asked me?
I could’nt tell you if I tried
I suppose, I want to love you before I die.
Thank you for letting me love you.So, you traveled the world when you were young
“Just Like going to the corner.”
And we speak about the light in the dark.
Oh, my inspiration, you’ve kissed my heart.
I admit,I am selfish.
My greed is to wash your feet,
Calm your aching brow.
I stole moments for you…
But, I must go now.
If I never see you again, my friend,
If my gentle touch does not again tame your pain,
If your warm eyes never again meet mine in that absolute Knowing,
Then I never have to say a word.
I’ll speak the only words I said to you last night,
“Life is made up of moments.
Thank you for letting me love you.” .
Are there, will there be more? Both poems are lovely. I hope you will continue to write. I find them to be very sensitively written. I could never write poetry,f but I do have a blog where I question my human twilight. …that place that leads you to…well to being elderly in a very known way. Thank you for your poetry.
Frank @
http://crepusculum60/wordpress.com
I’m so glad you liked my poems.
I have many more.
In life there are so many intangible, realizations, thoughts
that find themselves lost somewhere within our inner dialogue.
To me writing poetry is like catching thistle seeds floating in the air.
I’m glad you are not allergic to mine.
Thank you,
Cary