We stretch out warm before another embered fire,
long gone; that summer, mounded soft with wanton eyes.
Replaced in guise with furrows, grey hair and winter skies
but yet those embers glow, smoulder, and burn desire
Too worn to giggle and play chase up narrow stair,
we rise with elegant, slow, measured pace, instead;
So we are not too tired on gaining our bed
to join in dreamy sleep and love, without a care.
Your voice, a drug which shoots straight to my eager heart,
softly speaks dreams, crackling, as vinyl plays our song.
With closing eyes at peace and thankful lives still strong;
our love, painted on mind's canvas, endures as art.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A truely outstanding piece full of warm colour inked lines that flow beautiful. A great poem dear poet