Quiet My Dreams
I dream of making love to her.
I stand tall in front of her tomb,
My heart churns up a lively stir,
I cannot help but feel the gloom.
I smell roses strewn all over.
I dream of making love to her.
I have lost all my composure.
Must all these painful dreams recur?
I stare and stare but it's a blur,
Her loss is great as it should be.
I dream of making love to her.
Seems that I'm tied, never be free.
Whispers from trees I try to shut.
Wish she were here. How I prefer!
Useless, for all life, must end, but
I dream of making love to her.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2022
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