What now of lovers forgotten stem
that roots me to the essence of them
On kisses brow,
Not a second wasted, but now.
For is our bond not of rarest gem?
What lingering thoughts
a constance in my battleground mind
Yet, in peace and calm in you they find.
A lovers map of fate
destined paths leading, winding, twirling
through the undergrowth of survival
Till upon a greying day
stems become vines
and the universe whispers
that you are truly
Karen Hayward ©2017 image and words