Out Of Sight Poem by Sylvia Lukeman
Out Of Sight
How bereft am I
when you are
out of sight;
how cold
can be
a day
without
your voice.
had I the choice
your voice would live
within the corridors of my brain
and then could I pluck
those tones
and words
that water my
parched
and barren ground.
imagine now
if you can
how bereft I feel
without my man
Thursday, January 5, 2012
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5/4/2024 11:06:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
this is a fantastic poem i like it..pl.read my new poem 'how did they dare..? '