In My Deepest Fantasy

The wheels of time roll by on the lavish landscape of life, many springs swarm in our ambiance and wane away, as we chaperon our entwined hearts on the garden path. Ardent fervor lined with silver on the satin cloud that set sail, not for long, for the ruinous rainstorm surges in and dissolves the dormant shine of the remote sky. My yearning glides beyond the sway of the eroded banks of the subterranean stream flowing from your eyes, but I know it’ll return from the sanguine sea of certainty. I won’t wait long to be with you in the vale by my garden, for in the recess of your meandering arms outspread for me, I wander on the wings reverie to repose once again. You sow the seeds of buoyancy in the abandoned garden, that sprout in the spectral spring with amorous splendor. The cradle of malachite leaves caresses the buds of rose, that bloom on the canvas of dawn painted by sunburst sky. In a trance I see you’re adorned by filigree of flushing patina, the flower of yearning embellished with the glow of ardor. I then find me drift in the domain of the deepest fantasy, sparkle in the sapphire sky like a shooting star, falling on the purple petals of your pristine rose, I turn into a drop of dew radiating my heart’s fervent hue.