𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞

the field

the pieces of grass blow in the
coming of the spring wind.
I have stumbled here in a way
that would cause
anyone else dismay.
my heart was filled with
a sad, disastrous love
which had gone bad.
we had expected to age like fine wine
but we had died like grapes on the vine.
I stood in the midst of the sky
and could feel Him so nigh.
I found the babbling of the brook
to be quite fitting for its nook
as wished away all the pain I knew
and somehow the last hue
of light seemed to be a remedy.
when I stood there so free,
I could feel him looking at me.
as much of a mess as I was
he stared because as he would state it,
he saw it fit.
I turned and faced the figure he was
and I smiled as an applause
for the beauty which surrounded his face.
he reached for my light hand
and without his demand
for it, I gave it to him.
he guided me through the field,
his charming smile a shield
to the cruelties of a cold world.
and as the sun set over the hill,
and the moon began to kill
the saddened sun,
I began to stop thinking
about old love
and I arose
to this new love and it's spectacular
curves of happiness and prosperity.

written on: february 28th, 2020