Poem by Aendgzel Roze
MY PLUME’S WHISPER
Don’t know when and how
The ink of my plume will bleed once again
Perhaps, the heart of it won’t flow
‘Cause it ceased its beating
And no more rhyme remained.
The ink turned into bursting tears
So the words slowly washed away
And the pages got soaked and smeared
No more emotions to scribble down
So its soul hid and flew away.
My thoughts were consumed with your absence
So how can I write a poetry of our love
When all I hear now is your deep penetrating silence
Thus, still waiting of your appearance,
To be seen, my precious one.
When that time comes – hoping
I knew, my plume once more will generously flow
Words would come spontaneously – believing
Those pages will be filled with romance
And sweet words again with aglow.