47.

This was the year
of 'martini',
of 'pate brisée'
yellow roses
(pretty posies)
his loving lip
my heavy hip!

September 08

poem by Gillian.E. Shaw
Added by Poetry Lover
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From the Other Side of Sorrow.

Her name was 'holy' conscience said
and sorrow heaped upon a bed
in vain the search to find by chance
lift her, hold her for their last dance
held hopelessly in crimson time.

A heavenly view: man and wife,
had thought to throw away a life
was only such a little sin
guilt, forever unforgiven
tyranny bleached white finds those condemned.

The other side of sorrow sought
blindly fumbling to find a door
knock and call a familiar name
to light a very steady flame
so famished souls may feed and thrive.

Can you see she's all to me?
Heartbeat and love from the one above

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poem by Gillian.E. Shaw
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!