Wednesday, July 17, 2013


You are Saturday morning slipping, silky and soft
You hide in wee babies and hover aloft
You burn in my being and mock in my mirror
Subtle and searing and ever much dearer

You murmur in kisses of heartache and strake
Thieving caresses, you give as you take
Synchronized whispers of future and past
Letting you go while holding you fast

You twirl me in dances of darling delight
Roguish romances I cannot requite
Music of memories, you waft like a ghost
Stealing the moments I cherish the most

I want to touch you; look into your eye
Intangible presence I cannot deny
But ever you sever the thread in my hand
While gently unraveling from ethereal strand

You test my devotion and try my desire
Echoing ocean of invisible fire
Leaving behind you love’s prized pantomime
But I cannot find you; oh whisper of Time

© Janet Martin

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