After He Went Home Poem by David Blake
After He Went Home
Flowing genteelly on the breeze the faint
aroma of lavender and lost love. Holding
on to a bouquet long turned brown and
through eyes that no longer his face can
see, tears fall. The music, the dance, life
lived and dreams memories swirling
gradually fading her pain complete. In the
bitter night alone, she no longer sleeps
tormented she longs for a one final kiss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 3:03:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
