treasured violin lies silent,
Favorite poetry book closed,
The dim lamp glows upon them,
My mind sees you near thus posed.
The delicate treasures are kept perfect,
As the last time you lay them there,
Lonely nights I hear the music softly flow,
Words of poetry you would gladly share.
I arise and look for the reason,
Knowing it to be a trick of the mind,
Yet I seek your inviting presence,
It is you I am yearning to find.
Images form from cherished memory,
I close my eyes and relish the view,
Remembering as you stood before me,
And the warm gentle touches of you.
Hesitantly I face reality anew,
The room is empty but for delicate treasures,
Yet once again I felt your arms around me,
A lonely night was
filled with sweet pleasure.
11 March 2006