Grabbed Past
She wondered why I held the door.
The moment bringing shock and pleasure.
You'd swear there was a past once more
as manners led to sense of measure.
She thanked me for the act of kindness;
which hit my hard deep chest.
But not for thoughts of being friendly,
for those of times I took a rest.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2017
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