About the Poem
Dancing alone with an old glass filled with memories.
Holding on to hope, full of memories, a longing for my love to fly her way home. A romance in the making, in the now.
|by Joel the wolf|
|You may think of me as silly,
and it's a little thing to most
I keep the glass you drank from
the last time you were here
the last time we had a toast.
I don't clean it not in the least
you see it has this lip print on the rim
that does soothe this beast.
I bring it out on special occasions
that's every night to me,
I gently place ice in the bottom
then pour our favorite wine carefully.
Holding it up to the light to gaze upon
your lip print so sensuous, and full
my eyes brim then water, becoming a pool.
I place my lips next to where yours had been
inhaling the fragrance of your essence
and sipping the wine, so slowly you'd think it a sin.
Lighting a candle and listing to a favorite song,
I rock my body with an unseen partner,
where my white dove had been, now gone.
carefully placing it far to the back not to be misused
I'll bring it out again when I feel my heart to be abused.
Thinking of you softly not believing you have flown
still holding my heart in hand for you to come home.
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