"I grew up overshadowed by wooden trees,
Unequal laws unto a callous race we have,
Up early and even my soul is wet from dreams
Of that lady sadly gone now it's quite dismal,

Can't believe I let the smog cloud my eye,
The whisper cries robust in the morning skies,
The city folk with their fancy gadgets,
Today might be a time one sees a defalcator,

Asked I to her was my wise reprise to her refuge,
Always stay brave the trees will be your rapture,  
She appeared once on the setting horizon,
Brushed away black hair from before her visage,

Here I love thee as the horizon hides away,
Far away the sea sounds and echoes vibe,
Have I been forgotten like old ships in the harbor?  
I love you still among those frigid things afore,

The matron compared  to a mystic golden treasure,
As grand sun heats the creamy peaches of June,
As once again the Horizon obscures”  

By Andrew Guzaldo 08/20/2018 ©