A gentle breeze
Teases the boughs
Of ancient stoic trees,
Chases playful fallen leaves
Through country gardens,
Onward across green meadows
Dancing with the buttercups,
Lifting larks skyward.
On and on it plays
Finding its way
To distant lovers
So far apart.
With a gentle kiss
Of infinite bliss
It draws
Love letters
Straight from their hearts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn
YOU ARE READING
Moonswept
PoetryThis is a follow on collection from Windswept. In this collection I will examine the concept of love from a more ethereal perspective.
