My tears are black ink
That spill upon empty pages
I try to hold them back, till I blink
And they escape their swollen cages
The shape they take is the instinct
of my love
They form words, clear, distinct
how soft.
Is it sorrow? Is it joy?
Or do they meet in a place of wonder?
They are daring, yet also coy
Warm in summer, cold in winter
And still, however unlikely the melody they sing
Of exotic design and capriciousness
A pattern I keep on seeing
Which rises into my consciousness
Is it my likeness, imprinted
on white, lifeless paper?
Nay, it is your face.
It is your dawn-like smile...
Is it sorrow? Is it joy? Or do they meet in a place of wonder? This is really beautiful poem, so much imagination, emotion and love. great expressions.. thank u dear poet. tony
Thank you :) Feel free to share it with people you think might like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poetry helps us understand. Beautifully expressed.