The Love Letter
My dear,
I shall meet thee in the summer of thy heart,
where we once walked head to each
elegant upon the world....
And had not a care but for little winds of love
winking there in the dreams of trees,
laying upon me to so delicately,
tickle with your autumn hair,
always so soap-scented you
Touch me where I had not known
the ease of such wonder in your eyes,
splendor only for a great king ----
but I a hopeless romantic muse,
with little empty pockets blessed
with thy precious petal,
am richer than any lord!
I shall wait for thee in our golden glade,
the heart which flows the waterfall....
by the dawn of your sweet embrace,
in the summer of thy heart,
I shall wait....
(Love, K)
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
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