|
|
I
bring you flowers,
all
that’s left for me to do for you.
I
long to do those little things
I
used to do,
not
because you asked, but because
I
needed to.
Every
morning, as you
dressed
for work, I would
bring
you coffee
in
your favorite mug --
do
you remember, Love?
This
old chipped thing, I would say,
and
you would laugh and say teasingly,
I
love old things.
Then
you would give me a kiss
and
my day would begin,
cheerful
and bright,
like
a multi-rainbowed prism,
reflecting
the essence of you.
Now
my days reflect only shadows,
and
nowhere is the sun.
I
wish you were here.
I
bring you roses,
the
color of my bleeding heart.
~Copyright
© 1998 Ruth Gillis~
Previously
published in the Summer 1998 issue of
Candlelight
Poetry Journal
*2002 Poet Laureate winner
- Poets At Work*
|
|
This
page is best viewed in Internet Explorer browser
5+, High Color.
Sorry, Netscape users will not be able to hear
the music.
For
info on page design/graphics, and for Guest Book
and Email,
go to my Index page.
All
poetry written by Ruth Gillis is copyrighted and
may not be used in any way
without written permission from the
author herself,
whether it is found on this site or any other.
THIS INCLUDES POSTING ON EZBOARDS, FORUMS, ETC.
If you would like to use any of my poems for any
purpose,
please email me and request permission.
|
