Eternal flame, desires the same,
As I echo like a wolf.
The moon is vast, the howl cast,
The book is on the shelf.
Read to me its magic,
Enlighten all my fears,
Happy or too tragic,
Bringing me to tears.
For words of love
For words of hate,
My souls a cove,
My minds a state.
Read to me the words,
On paper, crystal clear.
Read to me the words,
As I slowly rest my dear.
And dream the world away,
Forever and a day,
As the words you guide,
I do confide.
And feel, oh so near to you today.
Comments2
This poem may be taken different ways. It speaks to me of communication primitive, written, verbal that have meaning even a touch is a communication. Well set in poetic words
I think the book upon the shelf tells the story of a lost love, and the longing to hear once more the voice that spoke the words softly and lovingly. I could be wrong, but I love the story. Such a lovely read!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.