here Emma

i'm

waking up on this glorious day

 

the playful sun creeps through the window

 

that time of eastern joy now lost

returns to me in the form of love.

 

 

she strokes the soft scar against my cheek

kisses away the shadow

 

those eyes a mirror for the gold we find ourselves rolling in.

 

 

shes not there. but shes here.

 

not her man but my woman. not my woman but her man.

we only know each other from what we shared.

 

 

and each day i rise i can find myself

with a smile

if only for when i rise.

 

for i know somewhere someone

someone amazing

loves this beast.

 

 

and i dont have to struggle through myself

as i would.

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Ohhhhhhh. can't believe you took up my dare to write a gentle poem and you have and, it's delightful! You see, you don't have to be angry all the time .. inside you is a tender little rosebud .. never forget that!

'i'm waking up on this glorious day the playful sun creeps through the window ' .. beautiful.

[EILEEN McGUINNESS]

I loved this enterprising piece of poetry which offered much food for thought for the reader,indeed your reference to my woman my man got me thinking and it was quite ambiguous to say the least,we could all see it in many different ways but your expressive ability to maintain a steady flow of verses made for a great poem very easy on the eye and an interesting tale.

[cest la vie]

I see my Chickie Brit friend dared you.. So glad she did.
This is really a wonderful poem..
"not her man but my woman. not my woman but her man."
Excellent line..