Wisdom's Sting

oh there, the dappled meadows held our dreams, though unassuming love twined amidst the highland fells like grasses thresh - sweet saffron flesh two callow hearts soft-blooming ... we watched the dew roll off the morn as brume rolls off the mountains our moistened husks, so passion-born those guileless thrills flowed thru' the rills toward wellsprings of love's fountains ... sad August's moon we coaxed to rise its blushing cheeks so swollen to daub our eyes with youth's demise and find in dreams - amongst its beams our chaste hearts, stained and stolen we lived those moments for themselves no hopes lost 'midst tomorrows but found on hence's careworn shelves that life's demands had wet those sands and swept them deep through sorrows ... how could we tend those callow years with souls naught but enthralling or gaze through truth and tender tears the Autumn skies - their amber eyes of dark-wrapped secrets, crawling ... each leaf, one bright death, falling while winter's breath was squalling my foolish heart, recalling ... my foolish heart ... Submitted on February 12, 2021 To the "My Foolish Heart" Poetry Contest Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.