Undergrowth with Two Figures
As morning crept amongst the trees
and teased the blushing flora ~
your hand slipped from my warm grasp
and my mind from serene slumber.
You ~ my faceless perfection
~ my perfect dream...
is ripped from memories like
the hurried leaves of a deciduous
coming
but, it's Spring in my dreams and wishes?
Before the canopy of summer shades our colors,
might it still warm our hearts?
Frantic starry nights do not enhance
our peace.
Yet, a stroll on some lazy avenue,
before the wake of reality, surely will
~ I pray it will become mine
as well...
Copyright © Craig Cornish | Year Posted 2025
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