In the Waiting Hour – #Romantic #Poetry

 

The candle sighs, its flame a tender breath,
A sentinel of time that will not stay.
Orchid and blossom whisper love from death,
Their petals holding secrets in decay.

The teacup shimmers, gilded with desire,
Its rim remembers lips that brushed its gold.
The air is heavy, trembling with sweet fire,
A story left unwritten, yet retold.

The apples gleam with autumn’s ripened hue,
Their sweetness waiting, patient, unconsumed.
The silence lingers, yearning to renew,
A promise fragile, delicate, assumed.

What hour holds more ache, more tender power,
Than love suspended in the waiting hour?

 

~ Morgan C. Morgan
Writer of light, shadow, and the stories between.

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