Her delicate kiss.

By alphadog1

Sat, 21 Aug 2010
  • 939 reads
2 comments
 

As I slowly lift my head to face the sky,
I feel the warmth of the summer rain,
Slowly kiss open my swollen eyes;
And in the midst of their fall,
A sound... delicate...
Made from the curl of an angels wing,
Gently echo’s within my soul.
Slowly, it strokes the back of my neck,
To bring alive a shudder,
Like stone ice down my spine.
Now... I know that I am truly alive!

Certificate 15
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi alphadog1, It sent a shiver down my spine reading this. I love the words you use, a sound...delicate... Made from the curl of an angels wing, Gently echo's within my soul. I can really relate to that, being a lover of angels. Really beautiful poem. Jenny.

 

Submitted by alphadog1 on
Thanks Jenny, I am humbled you liked it so.