The Glass Of Wine…

By Jane Aguiar

The glass of wine 

in your hand 

is more fortunate

When you taste wine 

that glass touches 

your lips then, 

why do I feel like you are far away from me?

I was invited 

to dance and dine then, 

how did you give time to wine without dancing with me?

Wine is sweet bitter

than me then,

How do you crave wine without the magic of my love?

The pain 

was intense, 

but I found hope in it. 

At least you met me then, 

where our dreams scattered?

By Jane Aguiar