Pale, yellow daffodil, your red
trumpet is silent.
I look at you
& see her face.
When she comes to this place
& we stand near you,
perhaps the notes you have sent
out across the sky--it is said
the wind carries them--your song--
your longing voice--may they return
while I touch her fingers with my fingers
& search her eyes for rising sun.
Play for us a soothing song
while we embrace & while I burn
from inside out. Watch her fingers
play my heart. See how I come undone.
Author notes
An aubade is a morning love song.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Lovely poem, but where are men like you in real life?
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Excellent aubade
A very subtle expression of love, for Nature and the sweetheart. Very well expressed. I love the choice of words and images here. My favourite lines:
Play for us a soothing song
while we embrace & while I burn
from inside out. Watch her fingers
play my heart. See how I come undone.
Congrats and Best Regards!
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Thanks for calling this an excellent aubade. My favorite lines are the same as yours. Appreciate you....
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... that last stanza is gorgeous ... but it is just so due to the lead up ....lovely poetry >>> Gina
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Thanks Gina for reading and for your praise of the last stanza...
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a pleasure to read
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Thank you quietly burning...
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Damn fine writing, Rudy
excellence . . . always a pleasure to read you
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Thanks, Jaden...
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so beautiful...
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Thanks, ardentMarch
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