It seems like so long ago that I last lifted my eyes to yours, and tasted the love on your lips. I move through the days awaiting your return, just as the trees await their leaves and the garden bides its time knowing that in due course new flowers will emerge. Just as Spring follows Winter in its time, I know the day will come when I will feel your hand upon my face and listen to the beating of your heart, and my Summer will have come again. But for now I wait, wishing these March winds would blow you back to me. march 2003 |
