first love

romancing the goddess muse

hearing of your illness

pulls the threads on my creativity

they loosen and fall

it says nothing, poems die

like drama queens on the floor

and just this weekend

we lived among the smitten

kisses and dancing, sweet fun

now, alone, you've become ill again

I wonder

how long I can go on

 

but first, to disturb the mystery of why

my love has gone

she hasn't, she's written and

I'm sharing it now

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Gandré]

So you give the loss or the absence a new meaning, just the way how. You trick out your mind by saying - love isn't gone, it is there, for you wrote poems and so you are saving the moments, they always will emerge when you read the poems...
Beautiful words you share with us.