The moon has interlocked the night in glass.
Trees are no more than dark designs on grass.
The mood of music opens like a flower.
A scent of coffee validates the hour.
One wonders how two shadows can embrace.
For after all, time leaves so little space.
Only the smallest whisper of a word,
Makes old friends know emotion has been heard.
The landscape is a poem memorized,
A fey tune only captured by still eyes.
The light diversified by windowpanes
Diminishes, it may not come again.
Sandra....This is virtually flawless verse...it compliments every principle that validates accomplished work.You, young lady, are indeed a superior scribe of the written word, and this poem (I.M.O.) , should be included in the Top 500 Poems List.Rock Solid crafting. FjR
I love the line 'Trees are no more than dark designs on grass'. Creates wonderful images in my mind. Thanks.
You have it all, Sandra..Wow, this is powerful..flow of words are just so gentle, i love every line, the whole piece, the author.. I am glad i''ve found this. Marvelous is the right word.. Love, meggie
I really enjoyed reading this poem. I came upon the title of the poem expecting something completely different but I certaintly wasn't disappointed. Beautiful imagery, atmosphere and diction.
scent of coffee validates the hour- Sandra you have perfect command over iambic pentameter, and create amazing lyrical poetry with your beautiful imagery. night fall, moon, shadows, reflecting over relationships- you have created an ambience- serene, quiet- just right for reflection. as always a pleasure to read and learn from, the craft of writing a poem. Regards Mamta
a beautiful poem touched my favorite scent..coffee scent...loved it..10+++
Beautiful poem on a scent of coffee. With your magical imageries and affluent imagination, you have transformed it to an excellent piece! Love it with 10+++
A stunning write - the gems you continually pull out shine, no they sparkle with all that is you Sandra - thank you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Here lies the mysterious power of poetry—to restore in words, and thus reconstruct, the taste of moments that “may not come again” in reality. Vanishing scents, whispers, and tunes are all brought back in a way that reinstates their immortal presence both in time and in the soul.