Francesca Martin Poetry

Miss me?
Miss me.
My friend thinks it a wonder
you never kissed me.
Kissed me?
With sighs you claim autumn leaves are far too flaky,
Always drifting, until they float away
Waving goodbye to our shining, lighter days
Then you stop to miss me.
Miss me?
Lack of warmth brings new pleasures for seeking
Snowwomen are simply pretty,
Stable, and mysteriously cool
The perfect love in dark days
Then suddenly, they melt away.
With wet sadness, again you start to miss me.
Miss me?
I’m sorry to say, indeed, that you have missed me.
Missed me?
I swiftly floated away in waiting, fading
to different season’s days
Now I bet you wish that
you could never
miss me?
Miss me.
Miss me.
I’m sure you wished you’d kissed me?
Goodbye.

Poet: Francesca Martin