She need not say anything for her to be heard.
Likewise, her tongue can paint a mysterious masterpiece on the canvas of only a single word.
The way a memory shouts a whisper
To its recollection, down a crowded hall.
Spoken words, chiseled with sharpie
On each one's heart wall.
As dreams, they seem to fade fast.
Smeared and smudged by familiar strangers
As they "happen" past.
Her ghost once said to mine nothing more than... "Hello"
And then they held hands and danced
While leaving invisible footprints in drifts of melted snow.
Raymond Atchison
-
Author:
Raymond 77 (
Offline) - Published: December 13th, 2016 06:00
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments2
WELCOME RAY ~ Thanks for a beautifully written first poem but replete with pathos and nostalgia. Everyone who passes in (and out) of our lives leave their mark ~ but some especially precious ! Thanks for caring & sharing ~ BRIAN (UK) Please check my poems ~ Thanks B
Thank you for your kind words. I will make sure to check your poems out the moment I have a chance. Poetry is rather new to me. It took a lot of mustered up courage to post this. I've only written about 30 poems . All on a whim . It's feels good to know that someone enjoyed it. Thanks again!
Awesome write
Thank you very much!
Welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.