WHISPERS

WHISPERS

A Poem by Betty Hermelee
"

mistaken delight

"

WHISPERS

 

Plenty of kisses for me to hold in one breath

I am overcome by his silky strokes, sensual aroma

Blues eyes and whispers

 

He returns home unscathed

Thank heavens for this revelation

I shall safeguard in my core

 

Hence, I wash away my isolation

For the well-being of my love in this dwelling

Replete with echoes

He shall permeate the vacuousness

With his immense generosity and kindness

 

He need not know I save all his tender letters

In a velvet case, ‘tis private

One day I shall recite them all

So, our lives in concert

Shall be memories to conserve

 

I SCREAM! WHERE IS HE?

Awaken in a pool of sweat

A dream of aspiration swept away

I am yet alone

Goading intensely to return to my dream

Before long I forget that reality steals my longings, my rapture

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2023 Betty Hermelee


Author's Note

Betty Hermelee
part of series "At Bridges End"

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

If only dreams were something we could replay at will, we would probably never leave bed for the harsh reality of life.
Maybe the boffins should be working a bit harder on that and maybe even a favourites list, a bit like downloading our favourite tunes directly into our waking thoughts... On second thoughts, that would be carnage waiting to happen.
Okay then, a favourites list we could shuffle through, but only when in bed and not during meetings or while driving or maybe we would need a visual sight when we were daydreaming so they could make sure we weren't meant to be doing anything important, like landing a plane or running the country.
What about googly eyes and flapping ears, so we could be slapped awake when and if it happened.
COome on boffins, get it sorted. 👀

Posted 1 Year Ago


Betty Hermelee

1 Year Ago

Sometimes I force my self to go back to a dream... it has worked! Thanks for a great and philosophic.. read more
Well, reality has a way of doing that. The juiciest dream can be interrupted and dashed to pieces by morning's light peeking through the blinds. Oh, well, there's always tomorrow night.

Posted 1 Year Ago


Betty Hermelee

1 Year Ago

That's true John! Thanks for great review!
Best, B
That was a classic, I could feel the emotions in this, they called out to me...if I didn't have hazel eyes I might think I were him...this dream, this apparition, this sensual love. This is one beautiful poem. A nice addition to the series.

Posted 1 Year Ago


Betty Hermelee

1 Year Ago

You're amazing!!! so supportive, love it!
Thank you a million times!!!
Best, B

2
next Next Page
last Last Page
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

191 Views
13 Reviews
Rating
Added on March 28, 2023
Last Updated on March 28, 2023

Author

Betty Hermelee
Betty Hermelee

Black Mountain, NC



About
My love of poetry results from my love of art. As a painter I am able to express myself on a canvas. As a poet my words come from my heart, my moods, sometimes sad, mostly upbeat. I like to use vivid .. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..