Postcard Poem by Karen Harvey
Postcard
I longed to be the breeze,
that caressed your skin,
the sun that kissed your face.
The long cool drink upon your lips,
in that far distant place.
I wondered if you’d be missing me
as much as I missed you
but your words on the postcard
warm me, ‘Coming home,
I’d rather be with you.’
Nice feelings encapsulated in this. Memorable ending lines too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 9:21:26 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Gentle and sweet, a lovely feeling