writebuzz®
About Us   Publish and be read! Poetry, lyrics, short stories, scripts, words of wisdom, features, memorials, blogs (a day in my life), memoirs, history, business, and I.T.
Home   Adults   Youngsters   The Plot Thickens   Publications  

Options
More by this Author
 
© writebuzz® 2004-2018
All rights reserved.

The copyright of each of the publications on this site is retained by the author of the publication. writebuzz.com has been granted permission to display the publications under the terms and conditions of membership to the original site. Publications should not be copied in either print or electronic form without prior permission. Where permission is obtained the authors must be acknowledged. Thank you.
 
  You are @ HomeAdults Poetry

Poetry

Source: Adults

Author: Jan Miklaszewicz

Title: Sincerely.

 

I've been off the bottle and living alone

for a life and a day, and it feels like home; and

I think about you when I queue for the bus,

when I listen to 'One from the Heart'; and I trust

that you're well and you're happy:

Enjoying the work and the dream that you dreamed of,

the challenge you spoke of,

the language, the life and the friendships you broke off.

Sincerely, I pray that you scale your peak,

that you never look down,

that you find what you seek.

.....................................................................................................

I don't mind to tell you that sometimes I share

of my bed, now and then, though I guess you don't care.

I think maybe you've met her, I knew her before

but she held back a left me to call at your door.

Did you find someone 'special'?

I hope that you did and he's kinder and older,

a comforting shoulder, and

liked by your mother (presuming you've told her).

Sincerely, I pray that you've papered the cracks,

that you've called off the grudge and

forgiven my lapse.

.............................................................................................

Suppose that you meet me tomorrow at noon

on the lawn by the lighthouse, I'll whistle a tune; and

you'll see that I'm strong and you'll see that I'm fine and

forget all about her:  I spun you a line,

because my only bed-mate's

insomnia now and she hates me, she loves me,

can't get enough of me:

She hangs in the dark like a hammer above me.

Sincerely, I pray that I'll wake from this dream,

that you'll grant absolution and

wipe the slate clean.



Published on writebuzz®: Adults > Poetry
 

writebuzz®... the word is out!