Photo by Andreas Wagner on Unsplash
Warm and marbled,
Vines of sunlit honeysuckle wreathe the low wall,
Pleading autumn; two lovers sit coolly on the grass,
Tinkering with little dreams - blushing faces
In the green leaves.
Above the catcher,
Moonbeam sprites alight upon the night.
What can be taken, is taken;
What remains, remains, remains.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Jonnie Walker and writers in Poets and other communities.
Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
What remains - remains -what is taken is taken. A beautiful love poem. Well Done!!!