Autumn rain is determined to tap against the panes of your soul
Defiantly strumming your hair in deep silent reflection: Now is moot
For you are lost to wind’s clawing of this moment; gone like fallen fruit
Oh detachment, you stole her from me; so easily that labour is done
Time’s distance drifts, ever further away from all the love we made
Harmony in duress, portrays the dying shimmers of a lonely mirage
Feeling too tamed, betrayed, unworthy of an evenings fading sun
Subtly a hint of guilt sabotages the continuity of her happiness
gliding through her mane demanding absence, that ultimate flight
She will return I know; this moth is drawn to the taste of candlelight
Back to her lover on once fragile wings, far braver than before
unshakeably driven by a need to understand her feelings, her desires
Then, with silken hair worn high above her sensuality, she gently rises
tightly clinging to intensity’s fall: And Harmony is found, once more…
*~ Pearldiver ~
Copyright © 2018 Rob Welsh – Art of the Diver with all rights reserved
Great to see you back Mr Pearldiver hows those fishing trips going give me a call I sent my digits was worried about you dropping off the radar I have been trying to call the old no
Will do… Give me an hour and I’ll get back on the grid!