He imagines his beloved on a bed of leaves
Abandoning worries behind, no tears to shed
Her wishes and hopes take her
Drifting away, only her form to offer
And he pictures the peace of her eyes
Her laughter in a whisper, everlasting
promises
Amongst the moments, she’ll be held
Prisoner, with another, until dawn prevails
The picture he sees, an untouchable
portrait
Flows with colours of memories to be dreamt
As passion warms their cold lips
Of a longing kiss, and silent sips
He fakes a smile, sole observer
Without a word, he sees himself as the
creator
Two souls meant to be one, no less
This, he believes to be her true colour
Jiliade • June 2009
Is he holding her closer, or seeing her drift away?
ReplyDelete...First stanza almost seems like... Death. The next, love and holding her, in various interpretations. And then it seems like he's literally painting an image of her.
The words are lovely. Perhaps it's my mood, but I'm having trouble perceiving a clear picture. Perhaps that's intentional? Is this a poem of a painter, entrapping a vision of his love?
Please comment, throw in some context ^_^