On those rare days <br />when I don't think of you <br />my dreams soon remind me <br />of the colours in your eyes, <br />of the depth inside your arms <br />and of the pulse within your voice. <br /> <br />I cannot escape, it seems. <br />There appears to be no distance <br />my heart can travel <br />to evade these emotions <br />so long eluded <br />by my walled-in soul. <br />Where did you find that key? <br /> <br />Was it the words you wrote, <br />was it the tone carried upon your voice, <br />or has our time merely arrived. <br />But, I've travelled here first <br />so will I depart <br />before you even discover the journey <br />you need to begin. <br /> <br />Only time, only patience <br />will answer shadowed questions <br />screamed into the sun <br />of another day in limbo. <br /> <br />20/10/08<br /><br />Viola Grey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-my-muse-2/
