Her Lovelies Poem by James McLain
Her Lovelies
Her lovelies,
as she grew up
and waiting.
Never knowing
the right time
to tell her.
No memories
of her
others.
Waiting and
waiting
much in vain.
Longing to bring
her back
one or two years
earlier.
Until finding them
wondering
where
all the others
went.
Looking as if the
middle
had been filled
with what are
now
dried yellow tears.
Now
she can never know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/23/2024 5:48:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
''lovelies''...actually i like this word...the poem is nice..