With sunshine in her eyes

Set softly

Within the halo of her hair

The smell of wildflowers

On her skin

Like dew drops in the morning air

She is

The freshest breath of spring

A song

That he could forever sing

But would he hear

The keening undertones

See the midnight

Sweeping through her bones

Feel beneath her sighs

Her aching moans

Make friends

With her churning anticyclones?

Could he be the light

Her darkness needs

The gentle shower

That nurtures her seeds

Will she find in his arms

The tender embrace

To chase the shadows

Lurking on her face!

© Manic Sylph 2016