Love Poem No.15
In the time it takes for
a rising yellow moon to
turn white, he recalled
the first time he held her hand, how he burned from stem to stern and hoped to God she
would be the one. The white moon high in the sky now, he turns to
watch her sleep feeling the same heat he felt back then but it burns wilder
now. He trembles, for
she has been his only anchor to this earth. Turning to check the clock he realizes he isn’t interested in what time it is. It is night and they are there, she dreaming beneath the sheets and the moon, he holding on and on and on.
the first time he held her hand, how he burned from stem to stern and hoped to God she
would be the one. The white moon high in the sky now, he turns to
watch her sleep feeling the same heat he felt back then but it burns wilder
now. He trembles, for
she has been his only anchor to this earth. Turning to check the clock he realizes he isn’t interested in what time it is. It is night and they are there, she dreaming beneath the sheets and the moon, he holding on and on and on.
You are my new favorite poet. Thank you for sharing.
Hi, Beth. Wow, thank you!
Lovely, John.
Thanks, GH…been praying for you guys.
Love how you take everyday life and share its profundity!
Gwen, thanks for taking the time to read.
John, this makes my heart ache, it’s so beautiful. Imagine: you write poetry that stirs deep emotions in strangers, far across the oceans. Enjoy this talent, and the skill you’ve built upon it.
Thanks, Alison! I like that thought, ‘far across the oceans.’
Sigh.
Diana, I gladly accept that comment.