In a world of pain,
Eyes weep more abundantly
Than an April rain.
I’m searching
For a geranium path
Where I can breathe perfume
And kiss her hand,
Find myself in awe
To touch her yellow skirt.
I wish we both had sunlight and coffee,
Apple pie from a city bakery,
And that we were smiling
Like we never smiled before.
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/touch-her-yellow-skirt/
