𝓐𝓷𝓪𝓫𝓮𝓵 | 𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹

The days went on as they do.
Not one day has gone by that
Matthias did not try to woo,
Anabel's spirits, her heart, her soul hitherto.

The next day in the park they stand, the wind still blew.
"Believe me, Miss, your love I want to cherish in my blues.
It sets my skies to lovely pink hues.
Where I see your face lying in grasses of dew.
You are the one for me, if you only knew.
What your eyes do to this poor soul of which you have no clue."

"Sir, I believe the season to have the dew outgrew.
The grass is brown and dry like your words untrue.
It is a madman's call to see pinks in skies instead of blues.
This meeting thus ends with these words a few."

"A few, a few!
These hours we spend together are enough to brew,
A storm inside of my being, rumbling with needs of you."

"Put your heart at ease, Sir.
This storm is one of two.
This shall wear off as all things do.
The love you declare is a phase of the time anew."

Anabel stalks away leaving her admirer to different means to pursue.
She thinks of it her last time to say "Adieu! Adieu!".

~