Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Storm...

From my bed
I hear the rain calm
the world with a mother's
tender caress...

Cool water on
warm skin soothes
lingering burns, forever
smoldering unseen.

Rolling thunder
echoes in hollow souls,
empty and desperately
longing your return.

Bent boughs ache,
burdened remorse of
emotions not shared, words
never spoken.

Wind churns insides,
turning and tossing memories
of you, straining to hear
your voice.

From my bed I hear the rain,
weeping inconsolable tears,
awaiting pink clouds to
streak the sky.

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