Читать книгу Poetry - Alan Wilkinson - Страница 9

Once

Obsidian hair framing beauty,

bejeweled eyes of brown and gold,

a perfect smile to behold.

A voice soft yet energetic,

a touch as soft as fresh snow,

a deep warming glow.

A smell and taste familiar and entire,

a taste of beauty,

a burning desire.

A tear as salty as the ocean,

a tight grip in emotion.

My mind sees your joy and pain,

I miss you once again...