Sometimes, my love is a gentle wish,
On soft summer night she sits in grace,
And when I turn to her face,
She shifts her lips to mine and we kiss,
My love is gone, so I reminisce…
As showers touch the window pane,
we grasped and gasped rushing out insane,
insane in our dances, ignoring subtle nuances,
we spent half the days in the showers,
and nights under covers till late hours,
My lover still truant, am salvaging from the ruins…
On nights of winter by burning embers,
Dry lips now keenly remember,
Her remedy for the seasonal cold,
Was a moment of closeness so bold,
It brings misty eyes, through shiver recollect
My love is lost, so I resurrect…
Hope Springs, with its fresh flowers born
and fragrance of warm bread and corn,
as I pack my bags and place the keys,
of our once loved dwellings, a breeze
brings to me a familiar scent,
I turn to see my love, teary, at the door,
and rush to her scaterring bags upon the floor,
My love has returned, Was I ever spurned?
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