Poetry again
Again, another work in progress. Don't worry, at some point I'll actually get back to writing. But c'mon, leave me some thoughts on these.
A quiet little breath of air
Saunters over the windowsill
And rests itself upon my shoulder
I can feel you sitting there
Resting on your haunches bare
Peering with your formless eyes
Ease your way beside my ear
Tempting, teasing, lest I wander
From your silent touch, a mere
Echo of the soul you were
But still you haunt and still you linger
Bearing scents of spring renewed
My skin grows restless at your presence
But my lips are closed to you-
You shall not rest in me again
I know your hope is false, my dear
The past is gone, as you must be.
A phantom of a fallen year.
A quiet little breath of air
Saunters over the windowsill
And rests itself upon my shoulder
I can feel you sitting there
Resting on your haunches bare
Peering with your formless eyes
Ease your way beside my ear
Tempting, teasing, lest I wander
From your silent touch, a mere
Echo of the soul you were
But still you haunt and still you linger
Bearing scents of spring renewed
My skin grows restless at your presence
But my lips are closed to you-
You shall not rest in me again
I know your hope is false, my dear
The past is gone, as you must be.
A phantom of a fallen year.