You Could Call Me
Who told you that love does not exist?
Who told you that our souls turned into ice?
Who told you that our hearts desist
And love has a certain price?
Your words about love turn into autumn leaves:
Yellow, brown, red, some turned into black.
Your words would like to receive a flack.
But…alack…they are just an attack.
You could call me and if I believe
The ice of my tired soul would melt.
I would like so much to receive
Those moments of love I felt.
You could call me and flowers would bloom.
You would not see the trace of the ice,
You would not see the gloom and doom,
No more loneliness and life could be nice.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
January 26th, 2011
<Deleted User> (24803)
Sat 18th Jul 2020 07:35
"You could call me and flowers would bloom.
You would not see the trace of the ice,
You would not see the gloom and doom,
No more loneliness and life could be nice.".....nothing could surpass these words.
Loved it to bits and pieces. I kinda hold onto these love poems, gives a kind of satisfaction to my heart. May love thrive in abundance in every beautiful heart.