April 10, 2012

• As we walk through the iron gate,
  hinged on the brick fence of glazed tile,
  I find the glow of sun in your cheek
  and the soul of garden nymph in your eyes.
  
  New cotton lace shades your tan arms
   and covers your shoulders as a rose trellis shawl,
  You skip in the grasses’ dew with bare sculptured feet
  held in silver latchet sandals. 
  
  We say nothing, hold finger to lips, without sound pass the sleeping hound.
  Not a word is spoken as we fade into the latticed alcove.
  Alone, embraced and chilled by the cool breeze and blown ocean mist 
  We whisper of each other’s dreams. 

  DSS

  
   
  

  • 6:37 am
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