How can I describe
in the limited language of the tongue
what feelings the thought of you begins?
I think, I feel, I breathe your name,
Paula,
and deep within me
I hear beautiful bubbling laughter
like water playing over stones in a brook.
I feel the breath leave me
as remembered childish,
sun-tanned arms encircle my waist.
I sense the wetness
of a popsicle-stained kiss upon my
cheek.
And in my mind and being,
like a far - far away twinkling star,
there is such a quiet, contented serenity,
there are no words to describe it,
except love,
except Paula.
*Taken from my book of poetry
Bittersweet Autumn
To Paula © Betty Sue Eaton
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A Christian Grief Ministry
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