I am living with a trace of hope that you will not see the tears that fall drop by drop, drop by drop, and scared within your heart you, of course will be not when softly I shall say: it was not you, my love.
only then the lie was sold so easy for there shall fall the tears ahead until dear heart will contain some courage to share some secrets and some thoughts.
And so it begins. Hunter greens with shades of brown weaved in just so sweet relief is nearing. Yawning fields, mouths open wide their cheeks slightly wet with tears. mourn the spring’s shivering sigh. Nature’s renewal rocks the cradle with serendipitous lullabies.
Then starts the heated exchange where fading eyes seek to warm their dying stems and rest their lashes on soiled sleeves. Enraptured by a lulling dream drowsy with promises.
The bitter char of crackling leaves startles at their nestled irises. Raucous taunts and warring emotions on the outskirts of consciousness. It’s better to dream against the frightening noise the encroaching chill. And sleep they do.
Aww but when spring abounds a jaunty nod and cheeky grin are what remain. ***** kelly orbs wink with joy grounded in maturity. Their strong backs to the sun tell a story of purpose and poise.
And I’m hard put to deny the deep-seated brilliance realized in life’s renewal once again.