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Lemon Verbena
by   Wrigley

If you look, at the end of the day
after words are spent,
and memories begin their journey.

And the wisp that was once a
brilliant, iridescent flame,
retires to a loft of curling 
lemon verbena smoke...

You'll see that I will, as on the very
first day, search for the never
written words, the one's never learned.

The one's I've yet to invent,
the one's you'll make me see,
to celebrate the 'us' that we've become.

'Till occasion brings language with the 
sound of you,
I will continue to amuse every candle
with your shadow...
and begin another memory.
        

Poem ID: 12973   Poem Posted: 6/7/1999
Viewed: 9714  Voted On: 118  E-mailed: 32  Commented On: 1
 
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Copyright , 3-30-99, Wrigley  all rights reserved by the author.
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