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Young and naive from a distance her heart leaped to its highest peak
On his terrace he'd sit lips utter words if the pages could speak
Her eyes showed ruby red as held flooding tears, so very weak 
Quiet and steady she kept silent cries to touch his naked cheeks


secrets from afar
            immune to the world around
                      enslaved hopes of love

Under shadow of garden trees among a gallery of crimson azaleas, she strolls
Portrait of beauty at my fingertips, to caress her goodness, oh so slow
She flees when stealing a look upon her; does one follow or just let go?
Burying thoughts in a book and just glance down to see her beautiful glow

silent eyes wander
          stroll alongside hand in hand
                  heartache pages turned


2/16/2017

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