Sometimes I struggle with my writing, and other times the words come together very quickly. This poem came in a quite literal flash of inspiration one morning.
By Francis Scudellari
Her face, remembered but,
For this moment, not-named
Features searched, caressed by
My gentle-touched recall
Her smile that beams, knowing
Stares, meant for these eyes,
Where wait, in-part secrets
Of loved not, to explore
Then-with blinking open
Of my dreaming mind
She, so quick, vanishes
Silent to early morn
This feeling, its darkness
Ever dissipating
4 comments:
It's a heart-tugging poem Francis, I can almost feel the emotion of the poet; like a wishful poem, or is it wistful? Now I'm at a loss for words.
Bravo!
it was very emotional and wishful as jena said..I read it first on MW..
i can feel the emotion....
@Jena Wishful and wistful are probably both appropriate. Thanks for reading and commenting, as always :).
@Confused Thanks Robert. I tend to cross post things, as I'm sure some folks don't check the several sites I put my poetry on.
@Kebelle I guess all those pent up emotions get their expression in the words :).
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