Portrat
I am whispering in your ear
But Is it to quite,
You cannot hear.
When you feel love
Do you think of me
When I am not here
The memories, Ah so sweet
Held inside of me
Everyday I display
A portrat of you
Bleneded, words thoughts and images
Some may say
'It seems strange'
Words that are never spoken
Sparks an awaking in me
A sentiment of a ripening friendship.
And I carry all of these weighing feelings
With a sence of filling pride.
The hues your life
Color my colorless
Countenance.
poem by Howard Johnson
Added by Poetry Lover
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