POETRY IS A WOMAN

blackdancers

One of those lonely nights
When warm arms is greatly desired
The cold so harsh my skin cracks
In desperation I took to poetry
To ease my every pain
Nothing formed in my imagination
So I drifted off into an illusion
Soon my pen hit the floor
Around some dark corner
A guitar stood against the wall
Sorrowfully I pulled at the strings
Melody in harmony with my soul
Around me I saw beautiful maidens
Slowly we sang my song
Tears filled their eyes
In their sorrow I captured my pain
In their eyes my being reflected
No words could describe
The perfect picture painted
Here was poetry written in a maze
I was dazed by the warmth
Conjugal bliss without a touch
Enchanted by the magic of the moment
An aura of woman hood
I drifted back with a smile on me
A blank sheet staring back

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2 Responses to “POETRY IS A WOMAN”

  1. How very beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

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