Day Ten of National Poetry Month brings a little sorrow…
Unspoken Promises
Standing past the warm summer breeze
the smell of honeysuckle drifting from the trees
I still see the ghost of you beyond the sea
You never mouthed the perfect words
your tongue stumbled in knotted speech
standing past the warm summer breeze
Yet, your eyes spoke of everything to come
together through existence, and love within
the smell of honeysuckle drifting from the trees
Now I linger, your unspoken promises at my feet
Why did you go? Why did you leave me?
I still see the ghost of you beyond the sea
© 2016 A. F. Stewart All Rights Reserved
Be Afraid of the Dark 
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