I needn’t stroke your silken hair
or touch rose petal skin.
The type of love I have for you....
it burns from deep within.
While in my soul the fires rage,
and nothing is consumed.
My spirit wanders aimlessly,
from room to darkened room.
The proper words I cannot say,
to show you my great love.
Yet here I’m staring at your face,
while you look from above.
Still my heart stirs with great desire,
to reach up and touch you.
As these feelings that I’m feeling,
I know they’re in you too.
But you will someday think of me,
when this book you have closed.
And I am just a memory....
and not the one you chose.
Alas...
Of all that I have looked up at,
‘tis you I wished I’d known.
For yours is a breathing spirit,
and mine.... I’m just a poem.
A Sean Allen Poem
© 2006 D McDaniel Hayden