In the quiet wake
you touch me
delicate fingers
stroke my heart
soothing
easing
With whispers
you bring me hope
you lighten a heavy soul
With questions
you give me answers
the knowledge of what love
could be
what it should have been all along
You give me a gift more precious
that any other
you give
Yourself.
Entries from September 2003
September 2, 2003 · Leave a Comment
Categories: Gun-shy Poems · Poetry · Ruminations · Writing