A flower of basil everyday
Plucked every morning and gifted,
A gentle surreptitious stroke,
On the palm of hand,
A stolen kiss,
Beneath the staircase,
A glance across a crowded room,
Caught and returned.
A quickly scribbled message,
And a faded rose,
Inside a gifted book of poetry,
Neatly kept, unread,
Like promises unfulfilled,
Long forgotten and buried,
Those days of love,
That are dead and gone.
2 comments:
Nice.... Like the crisp and simple images
Really....i could see it all in my eyes too as the words were read.Nice imagery and perfect words.
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