A burst of brilliant red,
her lips under the clouds trimmed with golden light
compare to sundown blushing—
communal pressures, rudiment of a fork of fingers
what was, what is and becomes crucial to live,
they have no grounds; a lover’s imagination is innocently formed.
It’s simple enough; not sly, nor artful,
comes to mind when deeply immersed in this tale of love and loss,
and perhaps never will—
a rousing ocean breeze and desires unbreathed
stir the memory;
his mouth hushed by beauty
gives rise to a hundred million odes and sonnets.
Who doesn’t hear the wind?
broken limbs that defy despotism; I wonder if love will ever falter?
Serenading under the moon,
mournful murmurs of a heart enslaved is
up to this day a concept timeless; I tip my hat to the Bard.
Photo credits: Pinterest
“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true
beauty till this night.” – William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Skylover Wordlist: Cunning 💝
Posted for Play It Again @ Real Toads