Hoarding

Musty hoards of memories found

In grips of the past, thus smell profound.

Breaths of stacked junk, a wealthy worth.

Knock me senseless in griefs dearth.

Swim to me in my swell of tears, offer me charity.

Carry me in your hands once more, in truth and clarity.

Lillian, scents of you come forth to me brief.

Stolen moments, reaps a cloaked thief.

Close the window ,block out the light

Squeeze my mind to conjure your sight.

Clutch a hanky tight, to draw you here.

Whiffs of you delightfully appear.

Least I drain this oracle from favour

A treasured cloth weaved in your name, my moral fibre carved by your graver.

Etched in my heart wrapped upon your threads

‘I love you’

I sensed is what you said.

Damien

Arness

Dalton

©2017

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