A song for May

Written by: Johnathon Souders

Within hills and hollers. 
Green outskirts of the Metro.
Forest patched by fields,
Where creeks cut.

I stumbled on a quite maiden 
With Irish fire hair, Indian eyes
High in tower of commitment
Stone warn from weight

I hermit traveler, Gestured to coffee
I beheld her eclipse
And fell in sleep from her poetry
Woke to loves vigor,
I a aspiring hero.

Was in warm victory,
But for a short-time.
The tower shadow gently returned,
Fading her bright eyes,
Compelling her to walk
To tower stairs, her rain washed me away.

I beacon-ed threats of wanting,
Echoing off rock’s oblivious. 
but sweetly.

So in little control
I bowed in friendly respect
Set home at the tower base,
Until steps herd,
Forlorn but proud of position 
As I friendly wave up, proud of my post

Love sometimes is just. 
Knowing what’s honorable.