Although you cradle gently,
wanting you has altered me
like a leaf, falling from it's branch
upon a solid oak tree.
What once was filled with lush life,
clinging to the pulse of your limbs,
has dried, faded, dropped from sight
and will never be the same again.
That careful breath you bestowed
with just one sweet kiss,
dries, arid, inside my throat -
run hoarse from dreams dismissed.
As I fall towards the earth,
to shatter upon graves of truth,
a sudden breeze catches me,
returns my heart- once more- to you.
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Comments about this poem (About You by Viola Grey )
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(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Heather Burns
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)