Love In Drops

Vintage Words


Whenever I look up

at raindrops

about to wet my face,

I think of you

close as skin.


Closer than tears

dropping or the drip

and splash of faucets

that tell me you sound

like that when you

arrive to splash me



You are suspended cohesive

paint, dipped and swirled,

lifted and allowed to wait

above my canvas for the last

bit of brush covered color

to fall.


I can not determine

when you became the cup

emptying the last nectar

onto my lips. When did I

taste the first quantities

of refreshing water? All

I know is that again

is my favorite time frame.










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KingofWords's picture


That's a lovely pieace of poem dear Allets! :)

allets's picture

Thanks For The Visit KingofWords

Poetry should be pretty sometimes too, right? Thanks for the comment - slc