Mote in My Eye
by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen — Read all 1,670 poems by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Sun's rays of morning birth,
strobe my eyes, as I walk by
blind's left slightly open,
towards the warm comfort
of your face, my love.
Dust motes speckle the air,
gracefully dancing,
at my hurried passage,
towards the soothing hum
of your voice, my love.
Only to drop and settle,
incongruously,
on my anxious chaired form,
as I reach my hands
to your keyboard, my love...
Erin Moen
1/18/03
Copyright 2003 ©
Saturday, January 18, 2003
very cute!
Faye
Be well,
Michael
Love from India - Joel -
Peggy