I wanted a simple life with him.
Barefoot,
nights under the stars,
watching,
breathing in the silence.
An honest love.
Tenderness.
That look that he had,
that said without words
that he understood
and all would be alright.
Time and miles never changed that.
I miss the essence of him.
Sometimes at night
under those same stars
I feel it still.
A soft embrace
an angel's touch
and I am home again.
Debra A.G. Hawley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/untitled-44/
