Searing Flame -Spanish Quintain
My heart stood still that first day past
When I met you in world so vast.
You did not see the searing flame
That torched my soul I could not tame.
For me evermore die’s been cast.
What puzzling thing makes me to love?
It’s not will but an inner shove.
Of secret hand that gently moves
Within my heart to make its grooves.
Hidden, working in velvet glove.
Copyright © Alfred Berggren | 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