A Sense of Rest

As my days dwindle,
And I hear calling from above,
I can’t think a better thought,
Than of my sweet, true love.


Though my tired eyes may fail me,
I can still see his gentle visage,
As clearly as the day we,
First met eyes – it seemed a mirage.

Though my ears couldn’t hear a tree fall,
Never will the sound of his sweet nothings in my ear fade,
If his engaging serenades I could not hear,
I would care nothing for the anthems of angels.

Though my tongue could not detect the bitterness of a lemon,
Eternally shall the taste of his saccharine lips stay with mine,
If it ever shall grow faint,
Never shall my tongue crave another morsel.

Though my nose can no longer savor the scent of fresh baked cookies,
Forever is how long his masculine fragrance will tickle my nostrils,
If his comforting aroma I could no longer inhale,'
Every other odor shall reek upon my whiffer.

Though my hands could not feel the stabbing prick of the sharpest of cacti needles,
Everlasting is his affectionate and securing touch upon my skin,
If his unmistakable caress should never graze my body again,
Any other stroke would feel like an invasion upon my being.


Now, dwindling so far gone,
My soul begins to soar,
And just when all my remembrances left me,
I am in his arms – this time forevermore.



--wrote this my second semester of 12th grade--