Telling You My Feelings Poem by James McLain

Some of these are my feeling,
I have told you.

In your hands, my heart,
it is bleeding.
I can't but how, now hold it.

Earlier than thou,
but shortly here thereafter,
I knew.

Thy bud is hidden in the blossom.
The thorn of each tommorrow,
when kissed it grew.

Turning heavy peaches gold.
Behind you they are hanging.
Your smile,
the sun it warms them.
When they fall like autumn leaves.

Only coming off,
when you squeeze them.
As you are again, you then will be.

Of all the cypress trees you see.
Out of all the knees you see.
Is the knee that you grew fond of.