My poem illumines the night like the harvest moon,
like the eerie gleams of fireflies reflect in the stream;
entrenched feelings, somehow are still unexplained
just like how bubbles of morning air kissed my skin.
It's not how our hearts intertwined all of the sudden
but of our language concurred; beautifully spoken,
when my mind awakens to reality, so slow, so slow
that's when I write those lovely words only for you.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
My poem illumines the night like the harvest moon,
like the eerie gleams of fireflies reflect in the stream;
entrenched feelings, somehow are still unexplained
just like how bubbles of morning air kissed my skin.
It's not how our hearts intertwined all of the sudden
but of our language concurred; beautifully spoken,
when my mind awakens to reality, so slow, so slow
that's when I write those lovely words only for you.
All Rights Reserved © 2014
Request permission to use this poem