Indigo
she loves cloudy dayswhen he is gone
the house quiet with age
Her cup full; stirred with
half and half
when raindrops beat in rapid pace
against the window panes
she smiles
knowing no voice will resound
shelter has its time, reserved
mine to not reply
in symphonic worship
silence paints indigo patterns
across her eyes, and
in little gathered things
water music
candle glow
whispered prayer
stilled isolation
no possession
finds her velvet peace
Poetry by BlueyedSoul
Read 1060 times
Written on 2007-01-19 at 17:56
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