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When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.
Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,
I CRY.
Maya Angelou
Read poems about / on: child, memory, children, kiss
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (When You Come by Maya Angelou)
Sylvi Sylva (1/4/2008 9:07:00 AM)
Wonderfully short, a good read indeed |
Janua Catt Alonzo (5/16/2007 6:18:00 AM)
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,
......wahhhhhh this part is making me cry, , , it opens an aged memories of love affair that was 1ce shared, , , ..*sniff sniff...*... |
Read all 4 comments >>
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