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1820
by Paul  Bryan

Sadness broadens, it fills the air
There's nothing sacred it would seem
Untold secrets, ragged hair
There's no waking from this dream

She walks to the edge of a garden
And whispering silently there
Remembers the death of her lover
And words he had spoken with care

He said please tell my girl I love her
And I will wait for her here
Where we first made love under starlight
In this garden of whispering air

Teardrops falling, she touched his hair
He had been blinded it would seem
For he could not see her kneeling there
Holding his head in the starlight
And before she could speak he had gone
        
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Poem ID: 32024   Poem Posted: 5/9/2000
Viewed: 2668  Voted On: 35  E-mailed: 2  Commented On: 1
 
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Copyright , 1999, Paul Robert Alan Bryan  all rights reserved by the author.
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