Am at our place

Am by the window
We use to stare
At the world beyond
With its finest touch
That quench our thirst

The feel of the sands
By the panes of the window
Remind me of the feel
Of your hands
And the snowiness
Of your laughter

The breeze of the night
Pour sweet wine
Into my longing heart
With mild tears
Pouring from the sky
To console my reaching hands

Am at our place
My Lady!
Draining my heart
Into the cloud
With all my smiles
To shower the room
Of your heart with

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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