Thursday, July 18, 2013

Sands Tilting.


Sands Tilting.



You were an hour glass,
figure, sand running,
my absolute interest
to observe your timing.

I hope to feel you,
know the relation of love,
where your mechanisms,
could fill my days.

Somehow nothing yet moves,
empty are the echoes,
all I'd wanted now gone,
reduced to a pile.

Let the winds blow me,
renew all I'd beheld,
a taste of your smiles,
and how good your hair smelled.