Array ( [sid] => 179426 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Like A Prairie Wind [time] => 2014-10-09 23:55:38 [hometext] => For a lover who I am separated from(We are both married) [bodytext] => She went back to hers
And I to mine,
But the memories I have of us
Rest secure under my skin.
I know where she lives
But no one knows I know.
It would not matter if they did,
I have already been excommunicated
Apparently a pagan,
So called from a group of prestigious white men in suits.
So I am the pagan,
And they painted her as prostitute.
Forbidden to contact each other.
But I have met her in my dreams
She has come to me,
And I to her.
I remember the way she looked at me.
Like a wild wind over the prairie,
Her gaze was adventurous
And grand,
It scaled to her personality.
And I do not know how to go on with mine
When she wanders through my hallways
A ghostly memory
That cannot be exercised,
Nor do I want her gone.
She sits across the country,
I hope she thinks of me
As I think of her. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 250 [topic] => 22 [informant] => deadreckoning1983 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Like A Prairie Wind


Like A Prairie Wind
Date: Thursday, 9th October 2014 @ 11:55:38 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: deadreckoning1983
She went back to hers
And I to mine,
But the memories I have of us
Rest secure under my skin.
I know where she lives
But no one knows I know.
It would not matter if they did,
I have already been excommunicated
Apparently a pagan,
So called from a group of prestigious white men in suits.
So I am the pagan,
And they painted her as prostitute.
Forbidden to contact each other.
But I have met her in my dreams
She has come to me,
And I to her.
I remember the way she looked at me.
Like a wild wind over the prairie,
Her gaze was adventurous
And grand,
It scaled to her personality.
And I do not know how to go on with mine
When she wanders through my hallways
A ghostly memory
That cannot be exercised,
Nor do I want her gone.
She sits across the country,
I hope she thinks of me
As I think of her.

This poem is Copyright © deadreckoning1983


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