Wilted flower
Your words fall down like rain
on this wilted flower,
the tenderness proclaim
of your sensuous power.
Lets the rains fall on me
let it bathe me in your love,
hold me in the silent nights
with wings from above.
My soul sits and waits for you
a hundred thousand years,
waiting to be released again
from these many tears.
What am I to do with
such sweet despair,
dare I even notice how
much I really care?
Hidden away like a present
not to be opened at this hour,
at the thought of losing you
my heart begins to cower....
on this wilted flower,
the tenderness proclaim
of your sensuous power.
Lets the rains fall on me
let it bathe me in your love,
hold me in the silent nights
with wings from above.
My soul sits and waits for you
a hundred thousand years,
waiting to be released again
from these many tears.
What am I to do with
such sweet despair,
dare I even notice how
much I really care?
Hidden away like a present
not to be opened at this hour,
at the thought of losing you
my heart begins to cower....
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.