The Refreshing Revival of Love

Erstwhile and escapèd,

Pink twine of the branch,

So neat-kept and stubborn in the wind,

Golden dust flying high,

Pollen hitched to the sky,

Entwined as the melody, gardener and earth.

At the stroke of a brush,

Or the sprinkle of soil,

And up lights the heads like the summer before,

When greener grass felt alive,

The ocean spun bright blue,

Where time didn't matter in the innocence of life.

Yet the autumn had crowded,

The sun overpowering

The freedom to grow and relax;

The snowstorms had bound

All the secrets of power

Right into their ice blood, misted souls.

My spring has awoken

In the light of your heart;

I can the truth is those eyes,

Pools of soft, mellow sunsets,

Rose-garden scented, all crimson and thyme;

The frozen has thawed,

The mountain-snow gone,

And the sea laps back at sand like

Our renewed touching of hands.

The End

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