A story based on a recent event, and an indirect thank you for a very special person in my life who has supported and inspired me for many years now, recently very much so. I dare to hope it is me who inspires this time. ;-)
His eyes are blue, not unlike his mood, but he is doing his best,
Soaking in the scenery, breathing in the sea air.
Shoulders back, chest expanded.
Somehow sighing out his inner sadness.
They decide on the menu and he goes to fetch the drinks.
Her eyes are green, not unlike the sea, across the busy street.
Breathing in the scenery, soaking in the air.
Head back, legs extended.
Somehow stretching out her inner pain.
They eat, talk, banter, mere fragments of conversation.
His words are positive, not unlike his heart but it is broken.
He wants to hear what she is saying, he wants to care.
Thoughts drift, wounds re-opened.
Her words float on the wind as he remembers.
They stare across the sea together in the busy pizzeria.
Her heart is pure, but not unlike her thoughts, it is broken.
She wants to care, to hear what he is saying.
Memories haunt, old aches return.
His voice swept away as she revisits.
They have no need to explain their own distractions.
He knows her agony, not unlike his, to pine for another.
He knows she understands, knows she cares.
Friends golden, hearts open.
Somehow helping him up that mountain.
They never hurt each other these two, they were never lovers.
She knows his sorrow, not unlike hers, of love unrequited.
She knows he cares, knows he understands.
Treasured friend, hours spent.
Somehow helping her climb that hill.
Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 617 times
Written on 2009-01-16 at 19:34
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The Pizzeria
They sit across the table from each other in a busy pizzeria.His eyes are blue, not unlike his mood, but he is doing his best,
Soaking in the scenery, breathing in the sea air.
Shoulders back, chest expanded.
Somehow sighing out his inner sadness.
They decide on the menu and he goes to fetch the drinks.
Her eyes are green, not unlike the sea, across the busy street.
Breathing in the scenery, soaking in the air.
Head back, legs extended.
Somehow stretching out her inner pain.
They eat, talk, banter, mere fragments of conversation.
His words are positive, not unlike his heart but it is broken.
He wants to hear what she is saying, he wants to care.
Thoughts drift, wounds re-opened.
Her words float on the wind as he remembers.
They stare across the sea together in the busy pizzeria.
Her heart is pure, but not unlike her thoughts, it is broken.
She wants to care, to hear what he is saying.
Memories haunt, old aches return.
His voice swept away as she revisits.
They have no need to explain their own distractions.
He knows her agony, not unlike his, to pine for another.
He knows she understands, knows she cares.
Friends golden, hearts open.
Somehow helping him up that mountain.
They never hurt each other these two, they were never lovers.
She knows his sorrow, not unlike hers, of love unrequited.
She knows he cares, knows he understands.
Treasured friend, hours spent.
Somehow helping her climb that hill.
Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 617 times
Written on 2009-01-16 at 19:34
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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