Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond
Any experience, your eyes have their silence:
In your most frail gesture are things that enclose me
Or which I cannot touch because they are too near
Your slightest look easily will unclose me
Though I have closed myself as fingers,
opening petal by petal and me as the Spring
(Touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose.
Or if your wish be to close me, I and
My life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
When the heart of this flower imagines
The snow carefully everywhere descending;
Nothing that we perceive in this world as equal
The power of your intense fragility: whose texture
Urges me with the colour of its countries,
Rendering death and forever with each breathing.
(I do not know what it is about you that closes
And opens; only something in me understands
The voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
Someday, I’ll tell you how you won over me
With whispers spun from sunlight and dreams;
How every moment unfurled as petals, and
How forever began with the promise in your eyes.
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Author:
Petrichor of Love (
Offline) - Published: August 7th, 2024 11:48
- Comment from author about the poem: This is my first-of-its-kind free-verse poem. Your feedback will be thoroughly appreciated.
- Category: Love
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments2
Beautiful lines romantic in nature and soothing to the ear. Nicely done
Thank you so much sorenbarret 💕💕
Love it
Thank you 💕💕
You're welcome
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