i hold my hand to the windowpane

beckoned by something in the rain

when it comes to love i am such a fool

but doesn't this feel cool


i can see your face beyond the storm

to the glass i'm sure my hand feels warm

when it comes to love i have no hope

but you could show me the ropes


i want you and your impossible love

be the moonlit dream i've been dreaming of

i can't let this die buried in the sand

your soft lips pressed against mine


like the windowpane to my hand



  • Author: noah (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 22nd, 2020 09:48
  • Comment from author about the poem: don't we all have a soft side
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 47
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


  • benevolentbluebabe

    Even the most stoic of hearts may be warmed, given the right counterpart : )

  • dusk arising

    tears of raindrops on windows bring out the melancholy often it seems in love songs

    hope tinged with sadness, one wonders if you are thinking of someone out of your league here or perhaps they're 'spoken for'

  • Goldfinch60

    May that love come to you and be forever with you.


  • Evergreen

    “Your soft lips pressed against mine, like the windowpane to my hand”

To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.