I wonder,
if the longest memories
live in the heart or the mind,
or are they entwined?
Is it my heart that relives
the memory or is my mind flipping
through the pages that often bring
a smile or tear?
I do know,
It is my heart that aches,
yet my hand reaches to soothe my brow.
Once again you are the memory of
my heart's discontent and I sing
the melody of you in whispers.
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
written 1: 01 a.m.
February 2,2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nicely presented. A beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing.