Love by Ann Wood
The night is mine and like every nightlonely, gloomy and quiet
he gives me his solitary call
and drink, purple-amber ..
Reminds me of love,
long forgotten,
for the fire burned with passion and blessing,
and gave life to a bunch of happy memories ..
And staring into the darkness
in the misty shadows of the night
I remember in my little room,
tonight I am alone again.
And am I waiting for anyone to remember,
to knock even at a late hour
at the door, my heart went out
and to reawaken the old love.
Poetry by Ann Wood
Read 289 times
Written on 2020-06-25 at 22:00
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