Touching

Sometimes it was as if

We were touching

Finger tips,

Maybe it was just

The magic

Alive

Inside the Seabird,

Maybe the memory

Of your lips

On the nape

Of my neck,

Whatever the reason,

In the quiet of the

Bald Pate Too,

It’s as if you

And I were

Touching

Finger

Tips.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Songs From A Seabird” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

1:39 PM August 18, 2015

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s