While Passing Someone's Garden.
While Passing Someone's Garden
The scent of Jasmine
calls me back,
to her honeyed locks
tumbling over my cheeks,
as the petals of her lips,
embraced my fondest dreams.
Thus I pause at this shrub
inhaling the intoxicating
aroma of what was first love.
©-MFB III
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Equinox On My Heart's Door.
Your limbs are barren now,
I have been blown away
by the bitter break
of your shedding me.
Tumbling in blurs
of what was love's
most vibrant colors.
Dying in mid-flight,
grounded in reality,
raked over
smouldering coals
and consumed.
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Weeding Through What's Past.
She was my
Dandy-lion-ess,
way back in the "Summer Of Sixty-seven."
Her golden hair tousled like a mane,
over ruby lips pursed for our first kiss.
Fresh like the dew on a pink rose,
she graced me with dreams
I had never known.
Danielle, my girl-next-door
a flower amidst the weeds
of the projects in which I languished.
I think of her whenever spring
graces my lawn with sun yellow bursts ,
and I wonder whose thirsty garden
she's adding beauty to now.
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