PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He wanders, my husband

He caresses and conjoles

He beats and tears to pieces

I cry in his absence

I grieve and I wait

I long for his soft cool touch

I almost feel his hot breath on my shoulder  

I hate him! I hate him!

His stolen kisses

His false embrace

I tear at my hair and clothes

I fall into my arms and weep

And he is there

Smelling of sweet summer grasses and the salty sea

The song of deep caverns and lost promises

Still echoeing in his hair

I run to him