“O for a life of sensations rather than of thoughts!” ~
John Keats
fills my mind
with the longing
of what if….
My world within
sees your hands
spark the blush
pinking my skin….
But I live in winter
where hands never reach….
Comments
Your poem reminds me of the Osmond song, "Morning Side Of The Mountain":
"[Donny:]
"There was a girl, there was a boy
If they had met they might have found a world of joy
But he lived on the morning side of the mountain
And she lived on the twilight side of the hill"
[Marie:]
"They never met, they never kissed
They will never know what happiness they've missed
'Cause he lived on the morningside of the mountain
And she lived on the twilight side of the hill"
[Both:]
"For love's a rose that never grows
Without the kiss of the morning dew
And every Jack must have a Jill
To know the thrill of a dream that comes true"