The movement of tiny hands
Reach unto the midnight hour
Ever in search of it's truth
Ever in need of empower
The moon it's a path
As the stars play insinc
And a distant voice
Plays in tune of ink
Midnite holds her truth
Close to her chest cling
Words unspoken spill
As her voice sings
Midnight, I long for your truth
You entrapped me in my youth..
(GJW....18-8-07)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your words stir the senses, nightime heightens one's feelings, well written as always, love Lynda xx