Waiting
Waiting
Gone is the luster of the hazel eyes
That once worshiped you.
Gentle olive hills and valleys,
Bear spider mapped lines
Across white foothill sands and
The I that is left misses you.
Your Adonis form and chiseled face
Have gone where I cannot go,
Here 'neath soft clouds, I hide from you,
Awaiting that gentle wind to bear me on
Renewed to you as
Before the world, we will forever be.
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