I reach to catch the grace
remembered from the dreams embrace
from the warmth of nestling my cheek
on her neck and shoulder,
that woman whose face
I recognize as mine
to catch the touch in a word
to recreate the moment
that brings again the tears
if I could catch the grace
in a word, The Word,
the word would whisper
“Forgiven,
Forgiven,
Forgiven.”
Her melody would
lullaby my soul
to sleep.
Poems by Ken 