Languid and low is the sigh of your presence
Ethereal echo of days left behind
Memory, oh, tis a bittersweet essence
Rising and falling upon the night wind
Lilting with laughter and moaning with mourning
Hushed rush of moments quilling the night air
Sweet ever-after; the aureate adorning
Of thought’s tender turmoil; desire, despair
Drenching the darkness with yesterday’s dances
Slow-motion quadrille of passion and pain
Silent and stunning, intangible tempest
Of moments that we know will not pass again
© Janet Martin
I do so enjoy your romantic works. They themselves leave me a memory and a longing for more.
ReplyDeleteGood one Janet.
I am glad you picked up on the romantic thread:) Thank-you.
ReplyDelete