those who say it's a beautiful feeling
to fall in love
have always been loved
in return

- p. winter

my mason jar heart,
chipped, cracked, stained with wine,
has often been filled
with tears for those gone,
romantic picnics,
porch evenings on
swings or rocking chairs,
too many secrets,
but great memories.

A  stiff  breeze
blowing  the  cherry  blossoms  away.
Petals  floating  into  space
like  tiny  butterflies.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.

where the river runs
is a ghost
blue as the sky

i want the beauty
of my mind
to run through
my pen

i want the sky
to cast its shadows
of the shadowy clouds
to where
darkness flows
and the moon,
the arching moon,
grows cold,

love could not be
more beautiful
when i am,
flower of the wind
sea of dark sky
ghost of a river
that runs.