Beneath the Blossom's

The chill retreats, a whispered thaw, As spring's sweet breath begins to draw Life from the earth, with a gentle hand, Kissing the sleeping, frozen land. My cherry tree, so stark and bare, Now feels like a gentle brush upon the air, Reaching to skies, with its slender frame, Whispering secrets of petals by name. A canopy of palest bloom, Dispelling winter's fading gloom, Soft gradients painted light and fair, A silken touch that no one else can bear. The sun awakes, her golden eye, Reflecting beauty, as it passes on by, Dark bark a contrast, smooth and deep, Where fragile dreams begin to sleep. Soon verdant leaves will softly join in, But first, my tree brings out its pastel dreams, A fleeting show, is so very brief, A poignant joy, and its sweet relief. Then petals drift, like silent snow, As the carpet spread, I'll will embrace it all, A pastel snow, I will lay down as gentle as can be, And lay my head where it whispered secrets softly sleep. The air is sweet, a fragrant sigh, Of beauty born, and then meant to die, Beneath the boughs, with eyelids closed, I dream of walking with my cherry blossom tree as it was proposed. My soul and his is entrapped, in this serene and deep fantasy land. Where scented breezes lull us to sleep, Lost in the magic, wild and free, Forever dreaming with my cherry tree.