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by Mick  Goodson

How can a heart that never ached
now falter at one name,
or touch that always chilled a spine
now warm as mellow flame?

Rain soaked birds upon their wing
descend from overhead,
to raise their song and lift this day
my barren life now spared.

Weak threads are now regenerated 
to awaken my spirit new,
and feel first time a warmth and glow 
as worn pages of life accrue. 

      For sorrows that descended on me
      float past my barricade,
      are lifted now and turned to ghosts
      - since love first time we made.
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Poem ID: 89397   Poem Posted: 6/23/2017
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Copyright , 1997,  all rights reserved by the author.
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