Avondale - Poem by Colette Carraher
Caressing the playful leaves
of the tall trees.
to warm the gushing waters lying beneath
Transforming the rustic tinge
of ancient stones.
Surrendered long ago to its depths unknown.
Here I sit, silent, unmoved
and inhale the tranquil air.
Its' deep silence only broken
by the call of the Nightingale.
Here, I think of you, and feel
the passage of time,
And the lingering scent
of the presence of your love
And a gentle warmth
Lets my thoughts drift,
to one other day, some other place,
Comments about Avondale by Colette Carraher
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Colette Carraher's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You