Monday, May 9, 2022

Stories.


As she surrenders 
To the aroma 
of sweet love, 
Treasured, she feels. 
For the wild Flowers, 
Make her complete. 

Let`s sip this nectar 
Little by little, 
And add new tales,
To the story that`s dying to begin.
She says.


 The Swing, 
Amidst the fall garden, 
Has promises to keep. 
For the highs are as precious 
As the wondrous lows. 

She sees stories around,
All so intricate and sweet, 
Rich with heart felt tides 
of Time and Being. 
And then there are stories, 
That never begin.