It must be imagination
that permits my heart`s lament.
Like roses in a garden
my bed bespeaks your scent.
My mind, confused, bewildered,
it tries to circumvent
the path that leads to anguish
and memories truly spent.
V
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5 comments:
Oh, Vince. I love this -- the formality of the language is offset so beautifully by the strength and earthiness of the image of the bed holding a lover's fragrance. Bold and sad. Well done.
Vince...beautiful.
Hey I luv the way you used words, this was nice.
Bravo
Bravo
Bravo... well done!
I'm a reader-not a writer- my blog is inspired by Samuel Pepys diaries, I want to be a window to my world, still I read your blog and LOVE your poetry! It's beautiful! Keep writing! Namaste!
Still loving the way you write, Vince. One cannot read this without appreciating your talent. When I am up to it I'd like to post something here, if I may. How do I go about that when I'm ready?
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