Truce


Deep in this winter without love,
no gentleness can touch my will.
The summer sun and calling dove
are frozen out, ice holds me still.

There are no harsh words left unsaid,
our silences are ripped and sore,
your rebukes echo in my head ...
can you still love me any more?

Our common ground is scorched and brown,
here bitterness alone takes root;
I face each day wearing a frown
and search in vain for love's green shoots.

To end this impasse and endure
will take a kindness beyond hurt:
give me your hand, affect a cure,
with graciousness we'll sooth torn hearts.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem