Bring your ear
A little closer
Let me whisper
To the dawn
In the awakening
Of my tears
In my soul
So forlorn.
The gentle ebbing
Of the waves
Of the dream
I implore
Let me hear
In my loneliness
Your sweet voice
Again once more.
Enchanted forests
Between the pages
Of the ink stains
Upon my hands
The scattering
Of discarded paper
A lonely desk
Where silence stands.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 22nd, 2026 04:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 57
- Users favorite of this poem: Syd, arqios, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments6
Lonely is the feeling here a relationship separated by space and time. Well written
As always thanks and appreciation my friend
Most welcome Norman
I love this Norman.
Brilliantly written! 👏👏👏
- Syd 🍄
thanking you, always appreciate your read and comment
Another favourite, Norman, my friend 🕊️👍🏻🤩
too kind, thanks and appreciation
Most welcome, friend 👍🏻🕊️
What a beautifully sorrowful piece, Norman. The writing space becomes both sanctuary and evidence of absence...filled with imagination, yearning, and everything left unsaid. This one lingers, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
many thanks my friend, always very much appreciated
Good write N. I know it, you were writing poems with a fountain pen at the bus stop, then it rained, and caused ink stains, cos you had to wait so long! lol.
They invented the biro while I waited lol
A poignant lament. Well done 👌💅
thanks and appreciation
most welcome, as always
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