A friend declares it the spark
Frost calls it a lump in the throat
I call it a missing heartbeat
Disquiet in the mind
Where sleep with the beloved
Lacks all sanctity
But no matter the nomenclature
This is an unruly serenade
A waterfall of unrepentant restlessness
Washing over every cardinal's nest
Yet it all comes back to you
Lighted eyes
Kind smile Warm soul
These words are yours
Those that tumble out of me
10/22/12
YOU ARE READING
Typed Word Series
PoetryWords connect all of us. Through laughter, memories, or ridiculous melancholy, we are what we say and what we write. TWS differs from WWS in form only. These are poems longer than 7 lines, allowing a little more freedom in exploring themes and more...
