Waiting With Bated Breath Poem by Beth Bailey
Waiting With Bated Breath
Waiting with bated breath
Butterflies flit and fall like winged acrobats
The scent of yellow roses permeat the air
September's long shadow creeps....creeps...creeps
Across my front door
How long will it be?
I can't think- your voice, your hands, your lips-
Every thought consumed with you
And it feels like Heaven
And it feels like Hell
But most of all, it feels like Love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/18/2024 8:37:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
