Rose-scented.....
when you sleep with a
broken heart
the eyes that ache
with lost sleep
and the hands that
fail you
you drown in sorrow
but in a certain miracle
you do not succumb
to death's
final offer
you rise from a whirlpool
of grief
nauseous
as usual a broken heart
like a salamander
mends itself
repairs its chambers and
begins to make
a lovely sound, a call to
love again, as the eyes wake
up for another
romantic moment, the hands too
hold unto another pair of hands
the whole system in you
reinvents
discarding old memories
buzzing
for a switch
that gives a brighter light
in that room
rose scented.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
