I’ll n’re forget your wandering heart,
Ambivalent to staying still.
I’d find you standing upon the threshold,
Bare skin warming to the rising sun’s glow.
You’d look upon the horizon,
As one who’d lost a great love.
And I stood by watching you go,
As a poplar tree watches a stream flow.
Now my room hangs silent here,
With my heart beating alone.
I’ll wait for you upon this spot,
As you wander where I dare not go.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.