Meeting Again Poem by Marco Bueninck
Meeting Again
Your hand in my hand.
Your kiss on my cheek.
Nature was in bloom.
The desert, a field of flowers
The hours that followed,
with your eyes in my soul,
your hands caressing me,
I wanted to hold them.
But I let them go, because
no flowers grow in the desert
and it is not spring in November.
But my heart knows no seasons.
And once there are flowers in the desert.
March 2003
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/25/2024 9:28:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
