A royal weakness
Oh mother your absence make me weak.
from my lonesome heart i speak.
To your clement bosom i cling.
In a distant land you lay.
Feeling your presents,again i pray.
This aloof sight of all memories.
A physical embrace,i do wish to indulge.
From my chess this pain will bulge.
Oh what burdens to carry.
Once you did help me carry.
At dawn a sparrow sings the unknown on the brink of a branch.
It fly's away,but its tweeting notes stay with me.
They reminded me of the mysteries you once did speak.
Joined with a kiss placed upon my plush red cheek.
Many nights spent awake drawing the sent up my nostrils.
The sent of your rosy red and amber night gowns,The night frowns and crowns a queen in memories.
Royal gowns,sent of a motherly queen.
Weak i speak.
Weak i speak
of a queen.
Copyright © Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT | Year Posted 2012