My Dearest Dear
She came . . .
quietly, secretly
to my lonely bed last night
and from a hidden pocket in her robe
she took a ring,
a circle forged of gold,
and whilst I blushed a deep rose-red
she placed it on my finger,
and whilst I wept
she pressed my trembling hand upon her heart
and whispered in my ear,
“My love, my dearest dear,
weep not, for you and I are One.
Tom McFerran.
Copyright © Thomas Mcferran | 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. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment