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Open Poetry #46

Hopes and Sunken Truths

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2010-12-01 11:24 AM

I canÕt describe the way I touched the sun,
How my thoughts left the mailman with a smile
Or the lady at the diner with a soft touch of desire

I canÕt explain my being,
The way my thoughts keep moving,
The way I walk towards sangria
But delve deeper into the whiskey corner of my apartment.

These feelings, like soft peels of nylon against my skin,
Where the fall of eve seems to remind me of another lost year,
Another lost romance,
Where my room still doesnÕt fill a void

Where my bed seems to echo a sentiment of loneliness,
A pastel of blue against the white paint of my four-wall room
I often wish I could escape,
Maybe to a childhood, maybe to a land
Where the bees guide me to a fountain of tranquility

A place where I can see my face rise with the cattle
One by one,
With the grass growing greener, even at the height of December.

With the height of my back rising along the early morning,
Maybe, just maybe, I can bring back the joys of life,

Maybe, one day IÕll walk where the rivers know my name.

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

1 posted 2010-12-01 02:27 PM

Meanwhile you escape into real good poetry, dear Tomer!

First step to create the reality you desire.

Very nice write.

Love,
Margherita

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

2 posted 2010-12-02 12:17 PM

Thanks, Margherita...hope all is well.

Cheers

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