PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Talk to me in

That voice I think only I know,

In sighs and silence

For which you are not known.

I ache for the language of your eyes

Whose fluency is neither beyond

Or before me

As I know the words yet

Through you the meanings change,

Where your wink and smile

Are an honour I dream not of.

But the only way

Shakespeare could have done better,

Or Neruda,

Were if he were me thinking of you.

If the trembling wind

Knew why it trembled

It would be because

It did not want to dilute

The unmistakeable beauty

Of your voice, or laugh, or

Whisper.

I wish to hear it all

So I will lay my ear

To grass

In prayer and hope

And not enough of both

Except for me.

I know the feeling of your smile

When you are not

As the glinting starlight

Behind closed eyes

Of which I feel I will have my fill, in time.

Even your absence has the impact of goodness

As it is because of you,

Maintained for you,

Inspires me as such

The gods are smiling at me,

In sadness, but,

So it goes.