The wait



The wait
a holding of tears
words packeaged
not sealed

You the counterpoint
an orchestera
Venice in my mind
open doors never found

A touch of heaven
soft skin
a scent of you
and New York calls my name
in fear of loosing

The wait
an unspoken promise
embraces lost
not broken



Poetry by kath
Read 400 times
Written on 2007-02-08 at 09:17

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lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
A touch of heaven
soft skin
a scent of you
and New York calls my name
in fear of loosing

This is so unique, the touch of heaven equated with soft skin and the scent of your love and New York

well done Kath this is beautiful rgds Michael
2007-02-08