Neruda
A very short, random poem I wrote about the effect Pablo Neruda's poetry had on me. It was kind of just a spur-of-the-moment thing and I hadn't posted in ages, so... Neruda With your pen and voice and sheer poetry You touched my heart, softly stroking it - Sounding a string or two, deeper and richer Than I thought I'd know. On a starless English night You swept away the clouds And let me see the bright pinpoints of a lover's dreamworld. My heart and mind were wrenched, I didn't care, I fell to it like some lovesick maniac and let loose the feelings I'd kept hidden for so long. That night, I held the pages, more fragile than a wing, between my fat fingers and came so close to love I felt I could touch its face: To me, nothing mattered More than words.