Because that is love,
When my beaten wrinkled skin is still caressed by you,
And your gray smoky hair is my loving obsession.
When we are lovers, may we dance under the full harvest moon,
And pick pumpkins,
At old wellwood orchards.
Because that is love,
When my beaten wrinkled skin is still caressed by you,
And your gray smoky hair is my loving obsession.
When we are lovers, may we dance under the full harvest moon,
And pick pumpkins,
At old wellwood orchards.
Warm darkness,
Shadowed on
My honey skin,
Hooded
Grey arrows
In the dark halo
Of my chocolate
Golden tousled hair
Like grain;
Reminds me
Of a god;
That is why you are
Charming,
But not quite
Trustable
I am Rush.
Nothing is worth my
‘No time.’
So hurry now to
Catch my
Running storyline.
Comments
The kind of love we're all desperately seeking, sometimes our entire lives---! I appreciate the metaphor here of time finally ripening as if it is harvest season: the golden years have arrived for this pair, years of joy to savor together. It's very touching.
Thank you!
Log in or register to post comments.