On those rare days
when I don't think of you
my dreams soon remind me
of the colours in your eyes,
of the depth inside your arms
and of the pulse within your voice.
I cannot escape, it seems.
There appears to be no distance
my heart can travel
to evade these emotions
so long eluded
by my walled-in soul.
Where did you find that key?
Was it the words you wrote,
was it the tone carried upon your voice,
or has our time merely arrived.
But, I've travelled here first
so will I depart
before you even discover the journey
you need to begin.
Only time, only patience
will answer shadowed questions
screamed into the sun
of another day in limbo.
20/10/08
Viola Grey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-my-muse-2/
