Lost September
September of my youth. Romance – a rose -
bloomed larger and more beautifully than
all other roses I had ever seen
or that I’ve yet to ever see again!
To gaze on him was heaven, and his eyes
would gaze with tenderness into my own.
I let my fingers trace his face; his skin
was petal-smooth as I inhaled the scent
of his cologne. A passion in my soul
was flowering! I opened up to him.
Red buds were his two lips and kissed with dew!
How sweet their taste! That taste I’d never known
to be so sweet before that moon-glow night.
No thorns had he – at least none I could see.
I held him close to me – that long-stemmed rose
so elegant! He stirred inside of me
a deep and dulcet longing; nonetheless,
my innocence remained intact, for I
was young, and he was bound to go away
back to his native land. How brief our time!
It was so brief I did not know it then,
but never would the month when I was born
come back to me just quite as sweetly as
it came that year when I turned seventeen.
Oh, precious lost September of my youth.
I never would again see moon and stars
shine quite as brightly as they did that night
inside the eyes of one *beloved rose!
*Beloved pronounced with three syllables to keep blank verse.
Date Written: Oct. 17, 2019
Writing Challenge 2, November - A Poem Meaningful
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wisshkobi Odem
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2019
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