It seems as though with passage
of blooming years, my tears have
dried, surging o’ heart with cheer.
You are sunshine gold streaming
past porpoise skies ―
I weep not nor hold dear inward
moan, you are hope o’ belief as
roses succeed showers of snow.
In euphonious tones, our souls
(afire) now breathe as one.
Photo credits: One HD Wallpaper
(Tribute to my closest friend Aqsa Siddiqui.)
Posted for Flash 55 Plus @ Real Toads
also for Poetry Pantry @ Poets United