"come fluttering words, come drifting words to me . . . "
A Rambling Poet
Her slender fingers of fair skin,
Clutching the folds of her gown,
Scurrying back to her chamber,
Stops with grace, and bends down.
Reminiscing that moment of shower,
passion and beauty laden,
breathing the roses picked by her lover,
from their secret garden.
the secret steps that led to him,
the passage to their rendezvous,
of a way and time to get there,
was arranged no one knew.
Their clandestine fragrance,
Of love so strong and forever,
Oh, she hears the summons again,
Takes furtive steps to her chamber.
Name: Sharon Well
Contest name: What is she thinking.....