Upon my path, a fallen tree I see,
Its branches spread like arms in silent plea,
I sense a gaze, a whispered mystery,
Do they recall the love that used to be?
I felt the branches' gaze, a silent plea,
As if they knew the secrets I inquire,
In nature's song, a whispered mystery,
A memory held by roots, heart's own desire.
Could this be where her steps were once inclined,
Where laughter danced upon the whispered breeze?
A place where love's sweet tendrils intertwined,
A tapestry of moments held with ease.
This fallen tree, a witness to her grace,
Holds echoes of her love, time can't erase.
YOU ARE READING
Her Volume ~ One
RomanceYou write poems, right? Ah, yes Every single day? I do, please For whom ? The girl knows But what if she doesn't read? She's reading. Aren't you? It might be just a bunch of poems to others, but it's a story to you, my 32 ❤️ Title: "Her Volume ~ One...
