you carve our love in a tree with your knife
initials and a heart left for all to seedeep in the meadow where you loved me
grass from our bed flatten amongst other blades
there in that forest where memories were made
the stars were the blanket in a soft velvet night
the nightingale hushed by each uttered sigh
the tree stands still, a tall leafy oak
shadowing the grasses where love lay with hope
and there carved deeply in the trunk of that tree
is a heart with initials left for all to see
(this is photoshopped, no trees were harmed)
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
1 comment:
this is one of your best writes in my opinion because I once had a similar night...well minus the carving in the oak :)) good stuff...
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