Whenever he speaks
You hope for a mention
Of the way that he feels
You watch his expression.
A caress on the cheek
Is not worth a mention
Will his lips kiss your lips?
There lies the question.
Will he... or won't he
Come around in the end
With two dozen red roses,
Are you more than a friend?
A reply to the question:
'Forget him my sweet'
Because a kiss on the breeze
rarely falls on your cheek.
August 2008.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem