Sunday, January 4, 2015

A Lover's Woe by A.S. Washington

The winter eventually finds the flower,
Chills its stem down to the root,
Clouds weep upon petals a chilling rain,
As they wilt like lonely fruit. 
That is how I think of our love, 
A summer fling without the fling, 
Not much more between than a friendly hug, 
Though you caused my heart to sing. 
Fire burns away the beautiful greens,
Turns to ash the blues and reds that bloom,
Torches the wings for Cupid's flight, 
Making too far the distance of the moon,
I have not regret but scores of woe,
In the absence of your alluring glow.

Related Posts

No comments:

Post a Comment

Fire Away!