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Thursday, November 08, 2012

The Gift

A wandering spirit
absorbed in longing,
holds in the moment,
a drifting desire.
With musical breath,
intense gazes glide.
Barefoot on moist sands,
your hand tucks in mine.
Tide ebbs.
Thoughts surge.
Paired heartbeats count
as the sun sinks low.
Waves weave
a foamy wreath
around our skin.
Your voice hums.
I listen with eyes closed.
I sense your scent,
once again renewed...
The sky curls
into a hushed nightfall.
The gift of your traces
I now carry in me.

~ Santorini Diaries 2009...


3 comments:

  1. hi Nats,
    Beautiful! love the thought process and the subtlety. Love in Greece,eh! :)

    Though, I usually associate the word 'wreath' with death or negativity...which is not the gist of your poem at all.. so may consider replacing with 'garland' perhaps for the happy feel? just a thought...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ...I had to keep it subtle , not to reveal too much ;)
      Actually, I always associate 'garland' with the marigold ones for festivals...and since these days perfectly round white'wreaths' are used as decorations not only at the graveyard ;),I thought it fitted the image well.Thanks :)

      Delete
  2. Beautiful... with all those sweet secret moments subtly speaking out.... :)

    ReplyDelete

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