She’s not ready to let go

Daily she stares
At the soaked rain
In wait for the streaming ice
To bring back the lost walk

Daily she stares by the gate
Waiting earnestly for the
Hungry lion to come
Visit her remnant heart

Daily she hangs by the shop
Where she got her last kiss
With hands buried in the grave
Holding tenderly the withered leaves

Daily she sang their songs
Playing unending with loud bangs
On the broken tape by the bed’s clock
As she grabs his picture by the side

Daily she waits
For the long lost lover
To find himself at her table
For the wine she alone glory



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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