Memories linger, like a gentle breeze;
days of youth, those feelings of desire,
like heat from a burning kiln when fired;
The pottery glaze blisters as it frees
the finished sculptured work of art with ease.
Yet, the gentlest of touch is still required,
so this masterpiece can be retired.
If you, oh just once more, could hear my pleas!

I’d beg for one more chance at love this time
Though our bodies wracked and broken,
simply old
I long to feel the touch that I remember
Intoxicated by your breath near mine;
One day before life ends and I lose hold
To have you near, once more, I would surrender.

  © 2010 Marlene Dunham