…he was the storm

Memories drift
soft and whispering
like the fragrant mists
of lost dreams
endlessly circling
in the emptiness

they gather and twirl
to music I cannot hear
in faraway gardens
filled with flowers
whose ghostly faces
I cannot see

he stirred the oceans
and painted the moon
he was the storm
and the soft light
of dawn
our song
forever etched
upon the canvas
of my soul

I was drowning
in the waves
and alone
under the stars

I was the echo
of silence
and the long hours
of night
lost
in the haunting melody
that broke
my fragile heart

now in the dark mirror
I face my hungry shadows
the embers burning
in the darkness
now slowly extinguished
by the cold dew
of reality

© Ann Bagnall

** A poem from my book ‘I Am The Mirror Empty Without You’ published on Amazon**