In youth, love blows away like the wind,
then comes home again on warm breeze.
Wafting, waiting heartache rescinds.
Wild blooms, untamed, bend free.
With ev’ry beat, hearts more sentient grow
and rosebuds blossom when tended.
As sunlight thaws winter’s harsh snow,
fickle hearts may be transcended.
Will feral hearts forever be wanting,
bleeding with each thorny prick?
Fallen petals fade away, daunting.
Blooms of love worth the pain they inflict.
**Quote: "The heart is forever inexperienced"
For Juli- Michelle's Write with your Heart: 12 lines Contest,