Sunday, February 17, 2008

The Wooden Bridge

(this poem is about a wooden bridge on which two lovers meet every night)

Sharing the burden,
Of a waiting heart.
I feel her tears
And their warmth.
Alone in the night,
She stands for hours.
Stamping me sometimes,
Sometimes gazing at the stars.
She refuses to talk,
When he is late.
Leaves me wondering,
The purpose of the wait.
But here romance is born
Pure as moonlight,
When she lies in his arms
And they dance away the night.
Dawn parts them with a kiss,
And a promise to meet again.
Even if the sky is dark.
Or they have to dance in the rain.

No comments:

Post a Comment