A voice from the past
A memory in the mist
The sun in his face
As Frank took the instrument
From his fingers
The band's guitarist
Introduced by role
As my cousins leave
Us to be
Our eyes finding each others
A soft voice with confidence
Steady eyes
Steps that didn't pry
Eyes that didn't stray
Hands that didn't move
Me waiting for a name
Him waiting on a word
Not moving 'til he stepped
From my sight
Through the archway
After a long delay
Letting out my breath
Was the moment we met
As my eyes followed
Him to the door
Excellent! I have a poem, same title....please read...thanks.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I agree with Mr. Earley....great poem...felt with anticipation, of what could be...or what can't be....as in my 'His Resistance Of Her'...Mr. Earley's 'Stolen Moments' now to your poem...connected together.-Cathy