And it is not the radiance of the dawn
which stings my weary eyes,
but the passing of yester-eve’s touch as I leave you
to tremble like the leaves with
Charles Coakley Simpson
This entry was posted on December 22, 2012 by Charles. It was filed under Poetry and was tagged with Aubade, Fate, Intimacy, Longing, Love, Passion, Poetry, Valediction.
Reblogged this on Monk's Catacomb.
December 22, 2012 at 1:01 pm
such romance and intimacy you have been displaying of late….kinda leaves one breathless….hope your holiday was filled with joy and happiness…
December 29, 2012 at 2:35 am
I always love the way you create an intimate/romantic atmosphere with your words
Beautiful piece of writing
January 5, 2013 at 2:31 pm
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