The sweetness ripens in giving and getting,
touch like petals in hand, gaze spellbinding
as moon and sun, magic laugh no one
hears but trees, sky, you, her, her.
Life can stew and turn sour and
time pilfer much of value but this,
this will survive to sustain you,
a font of rich nourishment, a love
offered with abandon and returned
with ease and such small expectation.
So tourching……Want to always here this
Thank you, Awutor Mavis Dela, for reading my poem and commenting.
Lovely poem, and that sweep of hair can only be yours
Sorry!–the new mama’s, not mine :). And thank you, Derrick.
🙂
But, then, we are related…:)
🙂