Hust! Don’t speak.
Just try to hear my soul
And feel my shy love grow
Into a river out of a thinnest creek.
Plunge in it.
Enjoy the stream of warmness
And see a tiny goddess
Behind my trembling half-closed lids.
That is me –
If you just touch my hair
And give a kiss of care
As tender as a deepest dream.
Hust
© Copyright: Юлия Эбервейн Захарченко, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109020102784
Свидетельство о публикации №109020102784
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It does sound like a real goddess - so delicate, tip-toeing through this life, gently touching people's minds with its heavenly fingers... This is what I see reading this poem, or rather whispering it...
Синельникова Юлия 01.02.2009 15:56 • Заявить о нарушении
Синельникова Юлия 01.02.2009 15:56 • Заявить о нарушении
I'm struck with your ability to SENSE the poetry. This one is really to be whispered...
Юлия Эбервейн Захарченко 01.02.2009 16:00 Заявить о нарушении
Юлия Эбервейн Захарченко 01.02.2009 16:00 Заявить о нарушении