A Longing for Springtime

Written by: Connie Marcum Wong

How beautiful our love was
In the springtime of our lives.
How tender was your touch—
Your fingers caressed my body
As softly as a willow’s leaves
Brush the waters of a still lake
In the wake of a soft breeze—
I felt each ripple spread 
Outward over me,
Consuming me with 
The pulse of your passion.
The vessel I use to contain these 
Precious memories keeps longing 
To return to our springtime,
Where time stood still and our hearts
Remained impenetrable 
To the outside world. 
How cold this winter has become.


For Chris D. Aechtner's Free Verse for Winter Contest