Dutch Whispers At Midnight
Sheltered beneath her veil of tears,
Amsterdam calls to my heart.
She follows me
through golden dreams and opiate sleep
to tempt me away from the true path in.
She is the wind on the water
filling my sails
with a quiver as soft as a sigh.
For no words
were ever quite so breathless
as Dutch whispers at midnight.
Copyright © Marty Windsor | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment