An Unseen Hand
A perfect picture painted
Across an empty space
A place you once knew well
The sky has become violet
There is a slow drift of clouds
The taste of dreams
Upon your tongue
A sweet scent of jasmine
The flowering of your life
A rose floats at the waters edge
A tear falls slowly
And shatters the glass
In the frame
Now an unquiet field
Of shadows
An unseen hand
A door opens
A last look
Floating colours
All the variations
There comes the sound
Of words that were never said
And the relentless pealing
Of the funeral bell
Until only the echoes
Are left
© Ann Bagnall 2014.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
LikeLike
A little late but same to you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL I’m living on Rocky Mountain time.
LikeLike