The Wounded Feeling


Kisses well meant like a round bead of pearls
Pressed against the dream coloured woollen sweater
Of the experimental kind closing eyes
To the open view before time began.

The silken pleasures of new womanhood
Gleam in all its ephemeral brilliance
And the surface of the moon seems so pale
Like some residue of the noonday sun.

But the hearts will pound with wounded feeling
As the thrill slips through the closing fingers
And the eyes turn misty at the cruelty
Of the hidden culprits that made her run.

I never saw her naked, she's alway clothed,
In fading memories of the way we were
Sitting there side by side imagining
Past the notebooks, a garden of delight.

She always smiled but the hurt will show
Sometime later when the mind's sight does draw
Dangling in the wiser face of reason
Tenderness in all its sincerity.
 
 

Bevagna 27 11 2010