Matthew Holloway Poems

The impatient hours
~
The drumming of fingers
The ticking of the clock
...

A morning poem for the muse
~
Every morning I wake
I picture you beautiful
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Counting on my luck
~
I’m sitting here looking at your picture
Remembering a memory we shared together
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Sunlight broke through the window
Blinded me away from a dream
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The rose that bares no thorn
~
How beautiful and pure
How sweetly kind and innocent
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You have imprisoned me, my dear
That I am now caught in you
Caged my thoughts have become
I am driven to distraught
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On a night sky
~
How quiet, how still
This countless hour
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A little flower in the garden
Unnamed to all my knowledge
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I question myself
How worthy am I
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I sit and best search
For what words to write
...