Nor smell the honey

I feel your presence though you never speak
In your last three hours, I held your hand
Your mind  endured with will  its  final task
To reach the entrance to that “Promised Land”

But now I sense you  in these dingy rooms
I cannot touch you though, it makes me sad
I cannot hear you speak or  hear  you  sing
Nor smell the honey with which you were clad

I  wept when looking for your old cartoons
And came down here to get a break
They seemed   most you of all the books you had
I have no letters nor any sort of sake

Where do I go now, I ask  your ghost
There is no answer, yet I feel love close.


About Katherine

I like art, poetry,history, literature,cooking,doing nothing to music.And conversation
This entry was posted in Thinkings and poems. Bookmark the permalink.

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s