We laughed at love,
we laughed at life
we stoked the fires
to burning bright
casting shadows of
intense delight to dance among.
At our racing feet
were gentle petals torn
of roses plucked at dawn
to cast aloft and
flutter down with scented
flakes of snow.
Concealed by night we
were set alight by
dizzy heart’s desire,
engaged in acts of love
soared entwined above
the dying fires.
Then come the dawn, we
woke and fled alone, freed
ourselves repentance and
propinquity, with burning
memories, but only memories
to feed our future needs.
© I.D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment