PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Not since a child have I slept in a single bed

I’ve rarely prayed alone but tonight to GOD I said

Where is the beauty that 40 years ago I wed

She touched my face and ran her fingers through my hair



I am an able man and proud and strong

I was committed to this facility. What did I do wrong?

I used to serenade this fine lady. Her favorite song And she’d  Touch my face and ran her fingers through my hair



I miss my sofa where we cradled each other in the dark

I miss the view from my front window, out to my Rosemary’s park

Each night before we settled, my Rosemary made her mark

As she touched my face and ran her fingers through my hair



My anger roars, if I was back in my home

Her sweet scent would be there still, I would not feel so alone

Give me back that feeling that familiarity that I’ve known

Rosemary, touch my face and run your fingers through my hair



I know your not coming. This will be the place of my demise

Each night I get braver. Despite, what seems, unending cries

So as wind and the stars and the heavens fill the skies

I feel your touch on my face and your fingers through my hair