PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Lightning

I paint her with my memories

Dry and silent, vice-tight in my thoughts

Clock-tick reminds me of mid-night

                  alone in bed

      I paint with my memories because I want to see

her smile

                        Because the clock will not let me – live

                                         down the past

I paint dry lightning skies above her

Thunder cracks upon our ears

                                                      after lightning has been thrown

                  The strike seems a quietus

             on the horizons of Bremen’s sky

but am I wrong?

                      I rest my face on the page

                                               smear the paint

                                                   and hope for more Photos

Hope-for tomorrow – isn’t working

                       Inside – in here – in memories

                                    I touch her chin

                   Run my fingers up the cheek

       A cupped-hand upon her outline

She leans into it – softly

                                                      Warmly

                  Eyes close like a lover in the hands of her lover

I paint and paint and paint

                  The canvas is awash

     Our four feet daring to fall off its edge

To jump

     over the roof tops of Plesse Burg’s valley

                                    to set foot on the grass

                        again

But I feel I want more

                            I feel memories are not meant to painted

like lightning         

    So far away from home