Saturday 18 July 2015

The breeze blew in



She led me astray
That is my excuse
The way she smiled at me
Which she knew by instinct
Would crack my armour
I reached over to her
To touch her soft face
That she tilted at an angle
Away from me teasing
She was so beautiful
It was then that I came to
I had been dreaming
I was alone in bed
The breeze blew in
Ruffling the curtains
Dampening my spirit
I crawled from the covers
Staggered to the window
It was not yet quite dawn
Birds cheeped quietly
In the nearby trees
Anticipating the day
Not hampered by loss
As I now surely was
Having taken a bruising
Remembering the words
It is much easier 
To catch cold 
Than true love

Image found at www.theguardian.com

5 comments:

  1. Wistful. Sad. And, finally, true.

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  2. Very sad. I hope it's not true.

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  3. Yes - true love is much harder to catch than a cold..maybe that's what makes it special

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  4. This is very sad indeed, Old Egg. Well written, though.

    Pamela

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