It seems my inspiration comes in spurts - here we go again!
in the third week of our time.
It had taken me a while
to come to that conclusion
and several tearful nights.
Holding her in my arms that moon-lit day
I was reminded of another sobbing girl
and it brought tears to my eyes.
Her small, shudder-racked frame
pressed close to my breast.
And I felt strangely and utterly happy,
feeling her close to me,
regardless of her heart-felt tears.
When she broke away, wiping away water,
I had to conceal my look of joy.
I let her boss me around,
I let her cook in my kitchen,
I let her laugh at me,
I let her correct my linguistic mistakes,
I let myself fall in love.
My test of endurance took place
in the fifth week of our time.
Being away from her for a weekend
seemed an insurmountable obstacle
to a love-stricken young heart.
That heart was soon to be broken
by the arrival of her Freund.
The love I felt flowed over
into a great, furious sea of rage
at the sight of her and him.
Then it subsided into cool sadness,
soothing to my red-hot iron,
as I withdrew from her, my love,
into the shade of my own bitterness.
It grew on me over time.
Poetry by Lea Foverskov
Read 1357 times
Written on 2008-11-04 at 11:43
Tags Love  Sadness 
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I let myself fall in love
I figured that I loved herin the third week of our time.
It had taken me a while
to come to that conclusion
and several tearful nights.
Holding her in my arms that moon-lit day
I was reminded of another sobbing girl
and it brought tears to my eyes.
Her small, shudder-racked frame
pressed close to my breast.
And I felt strangely and utterly happy,
feeling her close to me,
regardless of her heart-felt tears.
When she broke away, wiping away water,
I had to conceal my look of joy.
I let her boss me around,
I let her cook in my kitchen,
I let her laugh at me,
I let her correct my linguistic mistakes,
I let myself fall in love.
My test of endurance took place
in the fifth week of our time.
Being away from her for a weekend
seemed an insurmountable obstacle
to a love-stricken young heart.
That heart was soon to be broken
by the arrival of her Freund.
The love I felt flowed over
into a great, furious sea of rage
at the sight of her and him.
Then it subsided into cool sadness,
soothing to my red-hot iron,
as I withdrew from her, my love,
into the shade of my own bitterness.
It grew on me over time.
Poetry by Lea Foverskov
Read 1357 times
Written on 2008-11-04 at 11:43
Tags Love  Sadness 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text