- Books, Literature, and Writing
Pause: A Poem
How can my heartsong be played without the player of strings?
Separated from the main source of melody; the pain it just stings
Longing for more than a hug, longing for a place called home
Desiring his warm embrace, all my spirit does is roam
It shall continue until it finds that quiet, resting place
Yet sighing and wishing will not encourage the appearance of his face
The reality of waiting is difficult, especially paired with anticipation
So, I will keep myself busy; ignore the drudgery of expectation
Though it seems I cannot wait long for his warm, caring arms
Someday I will revel in his delightful touch; full of joy and safe from harm.