The Waiting Week Poem by Maya Took
The Waiting Week
Every week I barely wait
Sunday-Thursday morn till late
Till the day that you will come
Bringing on your lovely charm.
Sitting waiting near the shore
My heart beats loudly more and more
Starring at the waves and sea,
The water splashed then on me.
The sand swishes back and forth
The grass soothes me of course,
Untill the hour that you come
And all the stress turns back to charm
written: 27.12.09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/7/2024 11:07:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
