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I write to you only
In poetry now
Letters are useless
Our poems contain
All the silence between us
Wherein we remain

Poems are the songs
Of church-morning bells
Lyrics are scriptures
Of soft evening rain
The choruses ring
On the craters and hills
In echo they echo, again and again

We make love and listen
We laugh when it's funny
No judgments to sweeten in
Vaseline and honey
We never use words
Language is absurd
For transactions of touch
Where blood rises unheard

Now we celebrate silence
It causes no fuss
Love & only Love
We will let speak for us ...
And with all time erased
Your hands recall my face
And my kisses speak to you
In every quiet place.

On the stem
Of memory
imagination blossoms

On the stem
Of memory
imagination blossoms

I miss not having a like button here, I like that L.

and I liked the poem Richard.
It has a dreamlike feel to it. A tender longing/distance.

Thank you, Cate.

Some wonderful metaphors!!!

Thanks Hophead!
I like the reference to Vaseline and Honey. But of course that comes in part from the Master!
R

not bad, Ruthie. Not bad.

On the stem
Of memory
imagination blossoms

So evocative and sweet

I enjoyed your poem very much, Richard.