He sees the stars shine in the sky
The sun rising every morning
He wonders if he’ll forget her face
With every new day dawning
He hears the sounds of happiness
Laughter carried on the breeze
Dogs bark with joy at every sound
Birds sing in hedgerows and in trees
He doesn’t understand how this can be
Life goes on as intended
Has Mother Nature missed the point
Does she not know the world has ended
In one more week he heads on home
Seven dusks and seven daybreaks
One more week to think about the past
Seven nights and seven heartaches
He tastes her in his morning coffee
Sees her beauty floating in the park
To the music of his broken heart
Her shadow dances in the dark
And now he’s in another country
There is sunshine far far less rain
Time drifts on like clouds in forlorn sky
He hopes still for far less pain
Only when the heart can walk through the fire, naked and raw can it truly feel amour.
Don’t be fooled by an elephants tough dermis.
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Ah, Bonnie, what a delight to see you here.
And with words of wisdom to share.
But never forget, AnElephant is a pachyderm!
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Oh the matters of the heart…
If only it were easy to wish the heartaches away.
Beautiful flow of emotions here.
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Thank you, RoSy, glad you enjoyed.
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Marvelous if heart-breaking poem. I love ” He tastes her in his morning coffee” and “Time drifts on like clouds in forlorn sky”… just a sample of what moved me; there are more.
Heureusement qu’il y a la Med pour te reconforter.
.
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La Med pour le reconforter?
Mais UnElephant est deja content!
Merci pour ta louange.
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Time and nature heals all, just not always the way we think it should be. Nice write
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Thank you, Jem, but AnElephant is not so convinced about the healing powers you describe.
Hugs
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love and light sent you way if you need it
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What a beautifully written heartbroken poem my friend.
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Thank you, Al, kind of you as always.
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You’re welcome Señor Paquidermo
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Beautifully written my friend…. the heart has an amazing capacity to be bruised and battered, yet still find a way to love.
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AnElephant is always slightly embarrassed to receive such praise from his friend Roxi, a poet of a higher class.
Thank you
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Awww I’m just Roxi… no better than anyone else my friend. Trust me, my feet are planted firmly on the ground. 🙂
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Sounds like you have a lucky girl back home 🙂
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Just a poem, Michele, based on ancient memories.
No lucky girl, no back home.
Thank you.
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🙂
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