The lady.


The wind howled last night,
As I put my pen to paper
To jot some thoughts about life.
I had to put a weight to prevent my thoughts
from being blown away in the gusty wind.
I tried to cling to my strands of memory
of you, how you would play with my hair.
Get intoxicated in my smell,
And how your touch 
would give me goose flesh.
I know we will see each other soon.
But will time stop?
Will providence not take us to different destinations?
Why can you not drift closer to me?


Thoughts are like the wind. Loved the imagery in the poem.
Jenevi said…
Thank you