A Clementine Duet

When tuscan tunes of twilight, cascade as clementine confetti, She searches for secret silhouettes, swirling to the symphony of sunflower serenades. In the midst of faded fields, marigold memories crawl back, refraining yesterday’s tangerine dreams. Swans glide in sullen grace, illustrating a saffron backdrop from sweet sighs of fauna’s concerto. Harmony of melodies is the idyllic essence of dulcet beginnings. A plethora of prewritten words soar as passionate notes, harvested through hypnotic crescendos, emanating amber toned scales, whilst she sways below apricot streaked skylines, adorned in champagne hued consonants, synchronizing dandelion desires, fluttering beyond darkness that floats, as lyrical lines vibrate, and ascend to euphonious heights, where bronze keys of her mellifluous heart, evolve from a tapestry of twinkling tenors. Her muse mimics scentless petals. There’s no wrong interval, when performing in a world, where rays of honeyed glow drift, veiling the rhythm, between bleeding dusk and dawn. Changing chords remain oblivious, to the pulsating pain, as her perfectly manicured fingers lift. The hunter’s moon too refuses to see, how her heart no longer is made of flowers, but nostalgic ferns and leafless forests, that twist and turn— wilting away to songs of sorrow. But there’s a maestro with a pristine prologue. He understands her mind blisters when colors tumble. How her fragility has been sleeping on weathered pansies. He guides her to softly press the porcelain frame of piano keys, playing the prelude to a classical sonata, lost in the maple waves of wind-blown whispers. Her oak leaf twirls and sows duets of sanguine tomorrows, pitching lines within veins rhymed in vain. Birds of paradise croon to orchestrated hope and love, while a palette of sounds piercingly rise to unravel a synopsis for healing.