Poem 7
She calls to me.. Every night and day,
Questioning .. "Why do you no longer play?",
Touch me she says,
As If I were her,
Caress my gentle neck,
With your sweet fingers,
As you once did as you kissed her so.
Place your hand on the width of my body..
As I saw you once embracing her,
Place a kiss on the side of my body..
As you silently make me sing,
For I know your every melody.
Rest your head on my shoulder as you weep a lullaby,
Let my gentle vibrations soothe you,
Into a love cure,
For I have seen you cry.
Hold my tight,
For I know your every mood,
tonight stay with me,
And wonder your finger aimlessly through my hair,
For the night is full of music...
Made from just me and you...
Yet I leave her so..
Dead.. Alone in the corner,
For I wish not to be cured,
Yet she calls to me..
My faithful companion..
My beautiful guitar..
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Submitted on August 27, 2013
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 50 sec read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | AABCDEFGCGHGIJKILMGNOJFCPGQR |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 808 |
Words | 168 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 28 |
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"Poem 7" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 Oct. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/81982/poem-7>.
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