Like tender wind that brush my face,
Like whisper touching morning haze,
So soft and sweet in all its means,
Your voice is coming to my dreams.
And though I linger for this sound,
I'm in despair to drive it out,
Unwilling to recall the rush
Of memories that all my soul can crush
Still can't be helped despite all tries -
It's coming back in countless times.
My dreams are haunted with your look
All left for me is grab the hook.
Reluctant to its fatal touch,
I, though, desire it so much!
And flow of feelings that it brings
For me the ever sweetest things.
Thus, waking with a morning light,
I often wish for sooner night -
So that I could in quickest term
To dreams of Your sweet voice return.
The Dream Voice
© Copyright: Винсент Марков, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114020608022
Свидетельство о публикации №114020608022
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My pleasure. ) Appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Vincent Markov
Винсент Марков 10.02.2014 22:49 Заявить о нарушении
Sincerely,
Vincent Markov
Винсент Марков 10.02.2014 22:49 Заявить о нарушении