…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