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To Yvonne
by Richard TrotterFind me hunched and writing
released by lovelorn pen
potentially enraptured,
by thoughts of you again,
looking for closure
dreams can't tell me when.
Which shelf or empty box
can store my emotion,
when its wrong to ponder
your kiss' soothing lotion,
which chamber houses files
for misplaced devotion?
Forests cascade and tumble,
to pine for your smile,
sparkling in your friendship
but still trapped in exile,
as wounded days gather
and buzz in a silent pile.
The fever leaves me branded
a dramatic refugee,
stained by things I cannot do
to set the longing free,
I'd joust with solar knights
to make you notice me.
12/22/2003 Posted on 12/22/2003
Copyright © 2025 Richard Trotter
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 12/22/03 at 09:53 PM I can feel the fever in this one. I can see you writing, writing, but it only brings partial release. Very vivid images you've created! |
| Posted by Sam Roberts on 12/27/03 at 12:11 AM 3rd stanza especially powerful, I can relate to this one, the imagery was beautiful, much enjoyed. Sam xxx |
| Posted by Stephanie Kent on 12/31/03 at 12:15 AM Still one of my absolute favorites of yours...a masterpiece. |
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