Conversation With A Vacuum

On a cold fine evening I sat huddled in a wicker staring at the sootiness of the night Reminiscing about that which was far away 'Tis the gentle loving kindness of a woman I closed my eyes hoping ti hold those frail hands again But the vacuum that stared me down chilleth my bones And so I inquired of it-"when will thee be so kind as to allow me a glimpse of her" And for that it replied-"thou tends to embrace only that which is meant for the fingertips So I shut my eyes deeper And for a moment, the soft chants of the wind Seemed to be mocking me Threatening to take away The one scene I was caressing In that place, there stood a confused girl Staring into the tear-laden sockets of an agonizing angel Looming ahead of her was a life she loveth But which was uncertain And behind her was one which promised lilies and roses Searching into those heart-piercing sockets one last time, She turned unto the one her nose called for I moaned and groaned As the cold truth of my emotions hit me in the face And dug deeper for the short-lived comfort of that which I huddled with Letting my mind wander once again For more of that which I know are meant for the fingertips