Love Poems - Old Shirt
This tattered warn out relic
A faded copy of the new
Used to be the memory
Of you
In absence
Or for comfort
It was a part of you
Tactile, emotions offered
In touch, and smell
Sweet dreams
I often had
The product of this offering
Though twas requested
I’ll indulge fantasy and love
Smell
The oft forgotten sense
Til we are disgusted
Serves for babies and mothers
A scent of love and trust
I’ll endeavour to remember
To use this gift
And smell shall serve to offer me
You, yes you
And memories shall come flooding
Of sweet embraces numbered
Because this sense
In isolation will not serve
But is in tune with heart and mind
Though, this remanent grew ill favour
Of that there is a little doubt
Was discarded by the wayside
With pictures,
Was thrown out
In hopes the mind and heart
Would follow suit
And stop
Those memories from
Reforming
And cease this torture evermore.
A faded copy of the new
Used to be the memory
Of you
In absence
Or for comfort
It was a part of you
Tactile, emotions offered
In touch, and smell
Sweet dreams
I often had
The product of this offering
Though twas requested
I’ll indulge fantasy and love
Smell
The oft forgotten sense
Til we are disgusted
Serves for babies and mothers
A scent of love and trust
I’ll endeavour to remember
To use this gift
And smell shall serve to offer me
You, yes you
And memories shall come flooding
Of sweet embraces numbered
Because this sense
In isolation will not serve
But is in tune with heart and mind
Though, this remanent grew ill favour
Of that there is a little doubt
Was discarded by the wayside
With pictures,
Was thrown out
In hopes the mind and heart
Would follow suit
And stop
Those memories from
Reforming
And cease this torture evermore.
By Hilary Wheaton
posted by fluffylittlebunny @ 2:59 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home