As moonbeams blow kisses unto rose,
come sway along with midnight wind.
Your whispers allure as though waves
of incense, form rhapsodies of praise
in celestial ink ―
I sigh as darkness converts to dawn
as whistling thrush breaks into song.
In your eyes, I found the answers to
the questions my heart had always
yearned for ―
Photo credits: ArtsNow NC
Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United