Honeysuckle Wild

Weaving softly through my dreams

As gentle as a murmured prayer,

While I the wide eyed sleeper feel 

Her essence in me everywhere.

There is no shallow in her eyes

No lineament to less extol, 

She moves enticing lips to mine 

And breathes her music to my soul. 

Too soon the jealous Eos spreads

Her fingers to reclaim her throne,

And with the scarlet blushing dawn

The dreams recede I cannot own. 

Though I inhale her autograph

Left ne by this natures child,     

The sweet perfume of ardent love 

Bouquet of honeysuckle wild.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert.