It's 8 am in the morning and the morning sun
scatters rays through the room, while the
Songbirds hide in the leaves of the trees
Singing without a single word, yet I hear
Them whispering this is your new day...then
I gave my heart to Him, who then, plucked the
feathers off his wings and built a nest for us.
Heart bursting with joy, smiles smooth wrinkles on faces
My ears listen to the sound of this poem proclaiming a love
Natural as the birds singing in the highest notes, and images
roam in my mind, and as I sleep in my poem dreaming quietly!
Then, I doze back off to sleep from His smile and dreamy eyes.
I could fell His arms squeeze tight my waist; fingers vibrating up
And down my spine, imitating the melodious sound of Ilana's Cello.
After all was said and done, we rose to the sound of the aroma of coffee
dancing under its own heat-so much like moving to the rhythm of our song
His baritone voice makes the autumn leaves fall and me shaking like the
leaves on trees in the cool autumn breeze.
And He'll forever be present in the words of my poems.
His scent in the greens of my springs; I'll hear His
buds explode, and watch them bloom before my eyes.
The Sound of His love Resurrects the Silent death in Me…
By Almedia Knight-Oliver
November 25,2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Pure and honest, of the best kind.