Leaves on the breeze and the humming bees,
make music from above in the whispering trees.
Hold my hands in your sleeves,
cozy and home in the soft warm fleece.
The two of us are forever
on these cold winter eves.

Come morning sun,
So does mourning come.
With bitter kisses forever tides turn to never,
sundown crystal pools shake and glitter with great waves of stormy weather.

Our golden hour love was by design picturesque but fleeting,

yet I did not expect to lose so much of myself when we hugged in final greeting.

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Check out my poems on Instagram @kath.poetry ❤️