It would have been a perfect day
Love warmed the garden dull and gray
Joy sang from dark-limbed silhouettes
Where hope spawned buds of ruby red
The sun was warm upon my face
Before it melted in the west
In pools of rapture, glory-sent
I sigh; I am almost content
A lone bird wings its way to rest
The moon hangs low on heavens crest...
...above the silent after-math
As this day wanders down the path
Where all its predecessors lie
Somewhere beneath a phantom sky
Yes, it was almost perfect, dear
My happiness shines in a tear
In folds of blue and gold and rose
Another day draws to a close
As on the still and trembling air
I reach to touch you in a prayer
For all the blue and all the gold
Cannot give me you to hold
Almost perfect; yes, it’s true
Almost perfect, but for you
Janet
love this!
ReplyDeleteit reminds me of a poem i wrote called, Prayer, in which I'll be posting on 'P' day. only it's the sunrise i'm referring too!
beautiful write!
I can't wait!!
ReplyDelete