Aug 2020
There is an embrace hanging
As yet unenacted,
A smouldering aching yearning thing
That burns and writhes and
Demands to be born into reality
An embrace that promises so much
Yet threatens more and with equal vigour,
Turns a world upon its head yet
Fills a need so completely
And quenches an aching heart
As yet unenacted,
A smouldering aching yearning thing
That burns and writhes and
Demands to be born into reality
An embrace that promises so much
Yet threatens more and with equal vigour,
Turns a world upon its head yet
Fills a need so completely
And quenches an aching heart
To someone somewhere this poem will speak volumes for someone surely must know what this means.
