MOVE ME POETRY — A POETRY COMMUNITY LIKE NO OTHER
Your Face
The leaves are falling
there is the scent of honeysuckle
and roses, in the air
this day is yielding to evening now
you, you are all I am waiting for
your face haunts my dreams
you are my home
you are my love
the magic that you weave in me
is like the heavens poured out
like the moon melting into the night
too softly for anyone to hear
© Ann Bagnall
