A quiet spring morning,
difficult to describe,
except in the beauty of her eyes
like a spectacular sunrise
she could always hold my hand
and in a glance
in silence
would I there feel the love
she could not ever demand
yet only whisper,
and when a tear would fall,
oh if I could only have my fingertip there
so she might know
the caress upon her skin
is a kindness felt
in this our full circle lives,
her soul
her own giving heart.
© Scott F Savage 11/2020
 | a quiet man on Haiku Love |
 | Yernasia Quorelios on Haiku Love |
| a quiet man on I Took A Walk |
 | Priti on I Took A Walk |
| Priti on I Took A Walk |
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
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