for Charisse
I miss not hearing your words
your breath beating against my skin
within the lines fallen in the sand
the feeling of the salt 'tween my toes
as each thought of you I stare into the sea
ripples of memories beating
within each breadth that moves silently
beneath the waves faltered in your eyes
there's more of you in me
than I sometimes wish to remember
I can feel the sun breathe down my neck
as if you were gently blowing kisses
towards the leaves falling from each branch
daisies wilting from the turning of the season
laughter distant in the horizon that seems forgotten
I miss not hearing your voice
the silent echo of sleep
and the dream of you laying next to me
David Garrett Arnold
November 19 2008
Comments
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hmmm... for a piece entitled "without words" you sure have plenty of things to say.
missing someone sucks.
"There's more of you in me
than i sometimes wish to remember"
that was my favorite part. I guess because those words ache badly. They make the whole missing/longing/sadness so.... alive... vivid. I don't know. It's just clear as day in that couplet.
This was a beautiful piece. I have nothing constructive to say nor any criticism for that matter.
It was beautiful.
:-)
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I drifted away on a rouge wave, some time ago. I’m still upon it…or within it, or wrapped around it, whatever the case may be. But, for a moment, your poem took me close enough to the shore that I could feel the heat radiate from the sun-soaked sand. It is a lot warmer than the liquid chill of the waves these past years…
Thank you for writing me this poem. I often - very often - miss your words to me.
Charisse -
I like the way you wrapped the poem up by repeating that you miss not hearing voice/words...beautiful
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*tears fall* Nam is the most beautiful, sentimental, love, longing poem I have EVER read... very, very touching. I felt every read you wrote and it was very moving, I hope you get a chance to talk to her again and tell her how you feel.
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'beneath the waves faltered in your eyes'
that to me was my favorite beautiful line
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This is the second love poem I've read this morning...
and it's the dead of winter here, not even spring. lol. Charisse is a very lucky woman to have someone write something this lovely. Seriously, very moving work.
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