Wicker Bench Lovers
Simple singular, shards of silver moonlight,
Fell magically, over shadowy bodies, that night.
In the lush, jasmined garden, innocent,we?
Canopied by an angelic, embracing oak tree.
Oh, that wicker bench, where we embraced!
To this day, remains, our loves' first, indelible trace!
August 30, 2020
8am PST
Copyright © Panagiota Romios | Year Posted 2020
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