A swarm of whispers kisses my face
Like tender blossoms, a full view;
In morning’s bid, I find thrilled embrace
Through good-bye romps as sunrise debuts
On fragrant petals carousing dew.
My eyes follow his parting tracks on wings
As day rouses wisps of garlands’ crowns,
Clusters of buds wheeze a mild buzzing
To invite play, bouquets tap on ground
Their hemlines sway, waltzing all around.
When hours cling of delight, time endures
And I breathe him as buds fondle my hands,
But purple descends to weave sleep’s lure;
Sadly, florets close as night expands
Till he arrives, with roses on strands.
For Francine Roberts'Contest
Romance Me with English Quintains
by nette onclaud
2 nov 2012