Monday, January 5, 2015

Tender Touches

I heard a song of sadness,
Upon the wind tonight;
The mournful tune of branches,
In the icy void of light.

I thought I heard you whisper,
As I awakened from a dream;
But it was just the winter wind,
Sneaking past my window screen.

And yet, I felt your hand,
Brush the hair from across my face;
But when my eyes were opened,
There was no one to embrace.

So I listened to the wind,
And pretended you were there;
Letting winter's icy breeze,
Run it's fingers through my hair.

                                                             The Poetry of Nana Lynn

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