Her words,
feather into closely knit conversations
of memories and moments
it takes flight along the valley of love
and longs for those trivialities
that time cannot heal.
Her touch,
sometimes it perches on my skin
sometimes rushing through my veins
but most of the time
it brings forth a smile in my pretty old face.
Her love,
is like the clouds, in the dark deep sea
pouncing on my mortal life
and shimmering across the sands of time
during a misty winter's morning.
Her,
My life is all about her
like lovers
lost in the sea of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem