- Slow Typing in January
I sat in my office in early morning hours
Waiting for the sound of your arrival
Wanting you more than I had ever dreamed
But a dream is all it was, and only silence
Held me in its cold arms
Still, I would wait again with heart pounding
And the screen of my computer blank as the
Starless night in winter’s taunting chill
No words of comfort, no warmth of surrender
To the charms only you hold
These days, I write with sounds of you in mind
Against all efforts, you soothe me in memory
That forever remains real and honest and true
For what was, will always be, with no regrets
Just the knowing that somewhere under the sky
You are there
© 2012, Cher Duncombe. All rights reserved.
Conveying emotions through word images is something I have long loved. I describe it as word-painting, sometimes Impressionistic like Monet and sometimes bold and obtuse like Picasso.
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The Late Great Marian Anderson And The Inner Power of Singing. 
what a beautiful heart-ache stirring poem of a lost love, Cher, gave me goosebumps in fact, so still and quiet at those witching hours, lit only by the glow of you blank screen, I can see and feel it now- and “with no regrets” I wonder at the circumstances of this possibly star crossed love affair. The eternal attraction of what is forbidden possibly….or just a true love that happened under the wrong circumstances…
Sam Parr, you are a very perceptive reader!
Cher Duncombe recently posted..Characters in My Life-Collage: Chops