Silently passing in the shadows,
Gently caressing me with his touch,
That touch so reminiscent ... like the hand of a lover
Whispering quietly, I strain to hear the words
His scent filling my senses ... then gone as quickly as he came
Leaving behind a feeling of remorse
Though there was no time to really know him
Left behind, longing to feel that touch again
So gentle and yet so strong
Carol Rice 11/30/1998
Softly weeping in the dark
Drops of water dropping down
Splashing in the puddles, ripples racing outward
As if trying to escape something unknown yet feared
Carol Rice 11/30/1998
This poem is copyrighted (c) by Carol Rice and any commercial use is prohibited without my expressed written consent