Your gentle touch is not what I miss the most
Nor coming home from work to egg on toast
Its not running away, to escape the bores
And finding a quiet spot, to make love outdoors
Your bright, blue eyes are not what I miss the most
Nor sacking off work to spend a day at the coast
Its not hearing you laugh and seeing you smile
Or gazing at the stars, just laying for a while
Nor that I was lucky to have you, able to boast.
I now stalk our old haunts, a fading ghost
So just been together and feeling alive
Is what I will always miss about 2005.
Posts archive for: July, 2008
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2005
@ 2008-07-13 – 19:10:24
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spring trees
@ 2008-07-04 – 03:21:47
The trunk is the easel, the leaves the art
The former the body, the latter the heart
Neighbouring trees that begin to entwine
To share the sunlight, its clearly a sign.
About me
