(Poem by Wendy Howe)
see also the french version

I pull
a strand of black pearls
through my fingers,

hoping to touch
the syllables of your voice.

Near the window
sparkling moonlight's champagne,
you painted me.

Brush in hand,
you dabbed color
on the canvass
and beaded its page
with my face and body.

Softly, you whispered
that I was a woman whose youth
washed over time

like a warm spray
of ocean water
at twilight.

Your words
bathed me in the light
of untarnished dreams
and I felt loved.

My eyes slid
toward your lips
and I wanted to kiss -

those precious gems of speech
into my hands.

© 2011, Wendy Howe. E-mail:Wendy Howe
To know more about Wendy Howe

(Drawing by Marie-France Rivière)


© 2011, Marie-France Rivière.

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