He Called To Say
Night owl hoots at me again, again
beneath a sheet of clouds,
like cozy pillow to my moon
pinching my September nose
to tuck my ruffled mind away…
and in twilight’s waning,
a music box of a drizzle's song
frolics in slow, slow motion
through whiffs of a lengthened day,
cuddling hours of pure respite
with scented glow of new autumn.
Through fading light and duskiness,
I reflect how his tomorrow would float
as droplets are to moistened leaves;
glistening in tuneful pitter-patter of ticks
as the winds brush outside the sill…
and between teapot and lamp’s glow
the phone rings in a hush-a-bye,
chiming low, his voice drones to sigh
how my face matches a star beaming,
that he called to say he loved me in the rain.
Types Of Love Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Negron
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2013
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