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Bound by doubt, I stood there amidst the Bluebells,
Watching where she'd been but a moment sooner,
Dusk to come, her breath hanging like the shadows,
She, thus departing.
On my tongue, sweet words melted soft and tender,
All those daring, romantic thoughts I'd gathered,
Passion dreams that longed for a voice, but silenced,
With my reluctance.
"Please don't leave!", I begged of her proud affections,
"You're the blushing flame that so warms my marrow!"
Still, those sounds had not found my lips for voicing ...
Heavy, that stillness.
Rife, those times that I'd worked hard to impress her,
Waiting, long, the chance of this evening saunter,
There I stood, waist-deep in the meadow, darkened,
Mourning my chances.
As her shape was swallowed by shrouded gloaming
Rose the moon, perfecting its grand enchantments
I, then, choked on words meant for love's endeavor
Now, sad ... unspoken.
Written April 22, 2019
Submitted on August 29, 2021
To the "Your Best Sapphic Stanza" Poetry Contest
William Kekaula, Judge & Sponsor
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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