Crimson. Poem by dave lessard

Crimson.

Rating: 5.0


Crimson was the color of the dress you wore,
the night we danced, out on the square;
the moon was glowing in the sky,
the breeze caressed your auburn hair.

We circled round the monument,
to the music that was playing;
to the music of our own we heard,
magic that our hearts were weighing.

To enchantment in your eyes,
to the tender touch of cheek;
to the bond of our embrace,
to what all lovers seek.

We were dancing in a crowd,
but we felt, we were alone;
the moon, the night, the stars,
so high above us...shone.

Crimson was the color of the dress you wore,
the night we had but love to share;
the moon-glow settled on your face,
and the wind was ruffling up your hair.

Crimson.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lorraine Colon 03 August 2016

Memories of an evening dancing with your loved one in your arms unfold in this sweet love poem. A crimson dress, and the wind ruffling her hair - just simple things, yet so significant and impossible to forget because of the love you share. Very nice, Dave.

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Mac Adrone Adonay 02 August 2016

what a good write my friend.

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Gajanan Mishra 02 August 2016

but love to share, I like it.

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