Eternal are the words of thy creation, Sire,
As eternal as the ruby, red of rose.
And, as with all, your phrases hush, to turn to dust
Which, waywardly, across the pavement blows,
Then one by one red petals curl to scatter down
Red rudiments of, once, enticing bloom,
Conjoining beauties kiss to reach across the night,
Exquisite now, as one, in light of moon.

M.
2 April 2020