Oh, that words could drift along a gentle breeze
lest these emotions I learn to forget, breathe
their terse life out again.

My heart, it beats on the sound of your voice
as though strolling through a familiar lane,
while around us swirl these drops of rain.

You’re part light, part shadow lingering
among the aspen trees, is it possible
what you state could be more than
just a dream–

My heart, it bleeds upon the slightest touch
as though failing to remember most basic want
while around us fade these drops of rain.

You’re part memory, part forgetfulness
as though clouds obscuring a wakeful sun,
is it possible what you state could be
more than just a dream–

Oh, that words could drift along a gentle breeze
lest these emotions I learn to forget, breathe
their terse life out again.

 

Photo credits:Β Pinterest

Shay invites us to write a poem from the point of view of a person,
who sees reality through a distorted lens. I wrote about Dementia.

Posted for “Fireblossom Fridays” @ Real Toads

and Posted on ‘Open Link Night’ @ dVerse Pub