I Write Poetry

A sliver of moonlight highlights her face as she rocks
She lovingly looks down at the bundle in her arms
Her eyes shine as she sings a sweet lullaby
The air is heavy as time stands still
The clock sweetly chimes in the distance
A tear falls onto the soft bundle she holds
Her eyes become hazed
As she stands
The empty blanket tumbles to the floor
She crawls into bed to welcome the tormenting dreams again

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Montanaman · M

"Midnight Memories"

Not even the pillows would talk to her,
Much less, hold back her tears,
His place beside her-
Empty.
The minutes, hours, days-
Weeks, months and years.
Every waking moment,
Every midnight craving-
His voice, his smile, his touch.
Everything about him, now turned to dust,
And all that she has left are her dreams,
And those lonely moments in the heat of the night-
Those midnight memories.

-Kelly.

Dewkissedrose · 46-50, F

@Montanaman very nice

Montanaman · M

@Dewkissedrose Thank you 😊 As is your poem. It's sadness and empty feeling touched me. 🥲 🤗😇🙏

Dewkissedrose · 46-50, F

@Montanaman Thank you. I don’t write often, but this was a good one.

Montanaman · M

@Dewkissedrose 👍🤗You should. ✍️

Dewkissedrose · 46-50, F

@Montanaman it’s usually only when something is really bottled up. :)

Montanaman · M

@Dewkissedrose understand. 🤗👍🤗