Until Tomorrow

Whispered kisses linger
soft and hushed,
gentle as the summer breeze 
that plays like a child 
fingering its mother's hair,
in the half sleep of content.

Voices, like a breath,
brush across the skin,
tantalizing memories
and enticing images yet to be,
bathing the soul
in dreams
by the amber light 
of a breathless moon.

Sighs wrap
like a cloak around the shoulders
drawing a heart
into that wistful place
at the tips of fingers
holding onto yesterday
in the promise of 
tomorrow.


Janet Reid
may 2007






Awarded by Poetic Constellations