PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The moonlight reflects off the leaves of the sycomore trees that line the banks of the osage river .

what once was but that of a small oak sapling is now a full grown tree with a thick trunk with branches filled with the opaque yellows ,reds and oranges turning slowly to the lush golden browns that fall from the kiss of winters death .

nothing left to show of springs young love,

with the exception of a few leaves here and there that still cling to the branches fighting against a barren winters landscape.

do you remember why you loved me in the first place .

we would talk all night and day. saying nothing but yet everything,

but that was okay it was enough to have that feeling you get just knowing it felt right .

even after all these years we've been separated I wonder if you sometimes still feel it to

like someone or something was haunting me just behind the curtain of consciousness a feeling calling out to me from beyond the realm of reality and magic

dusk had come and gone leaving me tormented with the understanding that yes I still heard your call like the ancient ones whispering my name in the wind ,

knowing I'd end my day's loving you ,but also knowing the last time your name crosses my lips would be my last day in the mortal world