…of my heart

In the quiet of the morning
in the coolness of the early hours
I feel your presence
sense your spirit

I am lifted by your memory
quietened by your absence
I taste your kisses
in the breath of the dawn

I feel your caresses
in the ghostly mists
see your face in the rising day
lose myself over and over
in thoughts of you

I hear your gentle voice
carried upon the winds of time
brought to me
upon the exhale of the breeze
and in the murmurs of time

I hear your quiet words
ringing in my memory
sounding out the hours
and the days
counting all the minutes
since I last felt
your touch upon me

I hear you
laying out your secrets
seeking from my soul
the hidden words
of my heart
I hear your mind at work
drawing from the well
of memories
I hear you
hear your breathing

in the chorus
of the waking world
in the rousing sounds of life
I feel you
feel your presence
sense your spirit
drawn to thoughts of you
reminded of the distance

I hear your voice
soft upon the breeze
feel your touch
in the warmth of the early rays
see your smile in the golden hues
and abandon myself to dreams
© Ann Bagnall