Making Movies

Making Movies

I love that stray tear,

As it seeps from weeping eyes,

Shudder-rent sob,

Escapes your guarded hold.

 

Iron grip of your hand,

A prayer of heartfelt hope,

Unconcious whispered groan,

Of ragged disappointment.

 

Wistful sigh,

When ends are left untied,

Or there be angels,

To plumb the good inside.

 

Most of all…

 

Your glowing smile,

As Capra and kin,

Reflect your heart,

And the laughing child within.

 

Your quiet contemplation,

Down rain lit street,

To walk in pools of light.

Locked arm in arm,

Steps syncopate and echo,

We fade into the night.

 

Together.

21 June 2004

 

Copyright Pierre Nunns