Period of time

acceptance, art, break-ups, creative writing, depression, emotions, excerpts, Fiction, heartache, heartstrings, literature, loneliness, love, missing someone, poetry, poets, self-discovery, self-reflection, sensual, short stories, Uncategorized 1 Minute

Love is a most fickle playmate

.

I used to love April the most

But time has passed in silence

And I’m falling for Winter now

.

Soft white ashes, like eye lashes

Brush innocently along my cheeks

And I’m moved, in a silent thunder

.

The sudden whisk of cold air passing

Unexpectedly steals my breath away

I’m lost for words, and so much too say

.

Walking aimlessly everyday, anywhere I go

I feel the sun rays rush of caressing warmth

Clasping my hand, as she quietly tag along

.

If I close my eyes just long enough

I can hear her whispers speaking

Promising me all her love to keep

.

I used to love April… but she left me in the summer.

.

Poet of the Light © 2020

Published by Poet of the Light

I'm just a poet, sharing on my blog site with those I hope become lifelong friends. I tend to approach everyone a friend, until they demonstrate something different. I enjoy creative exchanges with others of the like minds. Thank you for reading, commenting and your visit. I appreciate all the feedback (good or bad) you care to offer. Feel free to reach out by email for private exchanges.

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