Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(1 votes)

RatingRated by

You must login to vote

I count the days as if
they were white pedals from vernal flowers,
though each passing moment
is meaningless like a bird without wings,
A rose without fragrance,
a day without evening.

Until I see you

and suddenly the world is composed
of poetry I cannot write,
an ocean swell of emotion
that does not rhyme.
All is color and dream,
and you are the centerpiece.
Eternal spring is born,
and I stumble for a word.

Yet a simple word would never be enough,
for you my passion.
A simple word would never
begin to describe
what it is before my eyes,
what it is encircling my heart all at once.
If it is beating fast,
it is aflutter from your touch.
If it pulses loud,
it is calling out,
for you to hear,
and draw closer near.

I realize now I scribe in vain.
I reach for words I cannot attain.
The poetry is in the moment,
not in the writer’s pen.
But if this will place a smile on your beautiful face,
then my day has been made.

Related Items


The following comments are for "Julianna"
by Virtex

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.