A poem by Harlon Rivers
Keep your secrets hidden
Held tightly in some old poetry book
upon the bottom shelves’ discreet disguise
The memories of the places
remembered in my life and times,
are in a dusty old wooden music box
behind some back corner closet door
Our tarnished fading memory of
that passionate night in New Orleans ;
remains as an adoring moments Polaroid ,
taped on in black and white
A tattered frozen moment
Faded photographs and black silk scarves
now cover the ornately whittled box
like an elegant party dress
that once feel off onto
the cracked tile floor
Offering a gift of love
means asking for nothing in return
I gave you my heart
You couldn't grasp my healing soul
A wounded spirit vanished with the dawn
disappearing from within the shadows
Abandoned as if it were the petals
of a dried blood red rose ,
pressed and preserved ,
between the tattered pages
of favorite forgotten prose
Memories of your missing breath’s
subtle hints are found here,
there and everywhere dreams flow
All that remains in hand
is a broken wing and a prayer
You had to know I needed you
more than you could ever take
You had to know I loved you
More than you will ever know…
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
Held tightly in some old poetry book
upon the bottom shelves’ discreet disguise
The memories of the places
remembered in my life and times,
are in a dusty old wooden music box
behind some back corner closet door
Our tarnished fading memory of
that passionate night in New Orleans ;
remains as an adoring moments Polaroid ,
taped on in black and white
A tattered frozen moment
Faded photographs and black silk scarves
now cover the ornately whittled box
like an elegant party dress
that once feel off onto
the cracked tile floor
Offering a gift of love
means asking for nothing in return
I gave you my heart
You couldn't grasp my healing soul
A wounded spirit vanished with the dawn
disappearing from within the shadows
Abandoned as if it were the petals
of a dried blood red rose ,
pressed and preserved ,
between the tattered pages
of favorite forgotten prose
Memories of your missing breath’s
subtle hints are found here,
there and everywhere dreams flow
All that remains in hand
is a broken wing and a prayer
You had to know I needed you
more than you could ever take
You had to know I loved you
More than you will ever know…
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
