LINGER
The words tasted sweet,
like honeydew from innocent meadows,
or manna from an uncorrupt heaven.
Every touch,
every caress,
slowly fading
in the midst of time.
Scared?
I’m not scared?
Pick up the pieces broken,
rewrite promises unspoken,
while gazing in your eyes,
the memory embracing my mind.
A wonderful dream,
from a brief, nostalgic sigh.
Perhaps you’ll leave one day,
and forget everything,
with eternity bearing down on us.
But I’m still grateful, for those
bittersweet seconds, as we continue
to disappear through
Time’s pendulum.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW
http://naturewriting.com/author/robin-goodfellow
like honeydew from innocent meadows,
or manna from an uncorrupt heaven.
Every touch,
every caress,
slowly fading
in the midst of time.
Scared?
I’m not scared?
Pick up the pieces broken,
rewrite promises unspoken,
while gazing in your eyes,
the memory embracing my mind.
A wonderful dream,
from a brief, nostalgic sigh.
Perhaps you’ll leave one day,
and forget everything,
with eternity bearing down on us.
But I’m still grateful, for those
bittersweet seconds, as we continue
to disappear through
Time’s pendulum.
ROBIN GOODFELLOW
http://naturewriting.com/author/robin-goodfellow