You are always home by the night
I can feel your presence
I can smell your presence
I can hear the thumping of your chest
In the cold night
I feel your warmth
The heat rising from burning fire
Kindled from the burning passion
Where do you go in the morning?
When I wake up you are already gone
You cannot be home in the day light
What do you love so much about the night
Yester night you came home
Kissing me like you bidding farewell
I held you tight; all night
Hoping I will not lose you by the morning
In the dawn I could feel your presence
In the morning I woke up alone
You had already fled in the twilight of sunrise
Where do you really go in the morning?
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Author:
Robert Isaacs Chiwala (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2023 00:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
Lovely write dear Poet, so relatable
(We're all, so illogically drawn
to those capricious elements
in our lives, chasing
while meanwhile, there's usually
a steadfast presence by our side
we take for granted
assuming ease of access, denotes
lack of worth...
that fallibility in our nature, exposed
so blatantly)
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