He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
Petals fall golden in hue,
one by one soft to the touch.
Baskets of flowered hope end
in sad "he love's me not."
Laughing and running,
over love's broken glass.
Prism dreams are shattered
black and white.
Dawn awakens to bid goodbye
to the night's yawn.
The robin's cheery song is full of woe.
Love that was given was stripped
and now stands naked and alone,
clothed only by the sun's warmth.
Left with nothing more than a yarn
of tangled thoughts.
Contest Entry for First Love Poem