The purpose of my propose
The smell of roses, dwell forever in memories of me proposing. I held it in my hand, when you opened the door, it was the first thing you saw.
I saw a teardropp rush down from your eye to your chin, complimented by your smile, and before it dropped… I could tell it was a tear of joy.
Bags fell down from your hands for you to reach for me. Before you burst into tears I remember you whispering in my ear so soft, so clear, so beautiful “YES”.
Before I could open my mouth, I felt your lips against mine, your kiss so divine. And then you said: “How Glad I Am That You Are Mine…”
…THE PURPOSE OF MY PROPOSE…
poem by Thato Maluleka
Added by Poetry Lover
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