Whispers

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