Where is she now
In the dark night of dejection
As I wander beneath
Either the flickering
Or busted streetlights of the city?
Does anyone recognize
The beauty of her face
In the tender way I did?
Both strong and soft features,
Goddess and waif.
Still I remember
Her fragile eyes in the candlelight,
Her brown hair in the sunlight,
The sound of her voice mingled with dreams
Walking a boulevard of moonlight.
I grow older in the lingering days of sadness
But songbirds will put my heart into a melody
And serenade her from outside her window
And this connection will have to suffice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiiful..............still looking...well penned