The pitter patter of the British weather smacks against the sightly cracked window.
I feel the rain humidifying the air and engulfing my room like a stormy monsoon.
My left arms dead from where you lay your head.
In bed with you, i'm at the most tranquil place I can be.
I watch you as you sleep, only wishing I could wake you for a kiss.
I'm still staring, smiling, as time passes.
My urge is too much.
I lean for your nose, placing my lips softly against your skin.
As you politely wake I stare at your perfectly blue eyes.
I whisper to you. I tell you you are beautiful.
This moment is there forever on my mind, even though physically you're not a part of me no more.
Isn't it funny how we remember such trivial things?
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Time Passes by SamM Wild )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Emily Jane Brontë
(30 July 1818 – 19 December 1848)
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Moonlit Night, Tu Fu
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- The Art of True Love, John Knight
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love .., Pablo Neruda
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