When I do stretch my hand

by Harry

Submitted by Isaacmayespoetry

.
When I do stretch my hand toward the breeze,
and seize not some substance for my heart’s fill,
and a sad cry does sing on my soul’s keys,
an empty melody which does hope kill,
it is because I long for your embrace
and wish that there was not some terr’ble gulf,
between ourselves, although I see your face.

I cannot tell its name or shape myself.
That sad, fleeting moment when you saw me,
I let my heart’s defence and guard then slip,
but love in me you no longer did see
and the swift wind eluded my heart and grip
and so my heart held space and wispy gust
when you left and did make my heart as dust.

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