'memory'

Learn more about other poetry terms

Something is calling me It is a whisper in the dead of the night  A memory I can no longer see The flutter of wings when a bird takes flight The salty wind over the sea
I shelved my memories of you - warm as old paper, edged in gilt, overflowing their rows like the books in the shops we wandered: pages tinted the color of a century, crackling at a touch,
I remember that moment,The first time we kissed.Which has filled the vacuity in my heart.Seven times alluring seven times divine.
  bright sincere smile announcing your warm presence, you never fail to appear no matter the situation, you are always there,
I reach for her, she is not there I speak, she can not hear I cry until I can no more She does not shed a tear   I want so much to see her now
Subscribe to 'memory'