Of love, tenderness and little things [1]


Read to me the fine poetry I like,
Take a moment to stop between the words
More than the punctuation,
So that I can dwell on the metaphor;
And you won’t need to worry
How bad my day was,
In the world that we create,
Words do magic for us!

Make me that fine cup of tea
Where you pour all the tastes in the world,
Sit next to my armchair in the balcony
Hum that note you used to while cooking,
I’d find it as serene as
That unknown lake in the forest,
Only perturbed by the sound of falling leaves,
And forget how fatigued I truly was.

When you are gone, your warmness
Linger in the air,
I wait, patiently
Till I feel you breathing on my neck
As you cuddle up from behind
And spread your hair on my face;
I know you will surprise me any moment now.

A dream of tenderness is not delusional,
I see it every now and then,
Looking at the road we took back to our home
I know we can never be apart!

We can never be apart.


5 thoughts on “Of love, tenderness and little things [1]

  1. Pingback: Of love, tenderness and little things – 2 | My Own Words

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