A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
I forgot to bear my heart at your gate adoring everything inside through those blue eyes. I could provide a bouquet less worthy. What does a boy like me know? I lean on your treated wood, Idly conversate, about weather when your hand neared mine on thin wood, we noticed. I feared too near, made exit on promises next time the sun shines. Walk by every day, hope to spy your mastery with spade in cool mid-day shade, the right hour when your true gardener arrived. Heaved on my sagged shoulder, a bag of fertilizer. Older, less bold, remember you, beautiful mouth agape at your gate. The last time, I laid waste at the perimeter of my sealed fate. A nod, back peddle and off down the street to consoling mother, I confessed mistake, failure to win love. Because I don’t know a thing but lolly-gag in your sunshine, wait for water to aid love for a bright, cheery one. She would plant seed in fertile ground. No blooms for me could grow for us, when not sewn, had I lent a hand, a heart, when hers offered to that tempered wood now shutting me out. On my porch, wondering when rain, the brightest star did come. A chill breeze at the foot hold as the warmest, smooth hand returned, touched mine. A whisper, it’s fine. Take my time. All the time. Blue pierced black night. Fright would dissipate. Morning came, ready to be her right man. 5.6.23 Earthy, simple, sentimental, it’s late. Text dense, dull. |