Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2012
My life consists of snapshot moments I keep in my head
Drops of rain in a passing shower that one day find their way
back into the ocean.

Scribbled words on faded paper that I keep
tucked away in an old wooden box
in the drawer of my desk.

All so that one day I may take them out again,
and show them to you.

To try and tell you how you make me feel.

But I can never tell you.
the rain in my dreams
wipes away the tragedy of a soft-spoken man
in a blue-grey watercolor wash.

You are a wind
tiptoeing in the back of my mind
a child who wanders the gardens at twilight.

the essence of a poem,
words felt yet not seen.

You are like nature,

the melody I fall asleep to,
a sweet kiss that softly fades into the evening light.

a silent song
your voice haunts me
thunder piercing the twilight

But I can never tell you,
the songbird outside my window
Waking me from the nightmares of a soft-spoken man
in the bright yellow warmth of your song.

But I will try to tell you how you make me feel,

so that I may take out the melodies of my soul
and show them to you.

Fragments of a song on faded paper that I keep
locked away in an old wooden box
in my heart.

Droplets of water form crystalline towers
in the caverns of a cadence.
Your life was a snapshot moment that I keep in my head
Richard Simunac
Written by
Richard Simunac
955
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems