Love’s attention begs,
and yet,
I dare not look or ask.
The camera and its broken lens
sits quietly in the corner
gone are its colorful days.
Here on the other side
it’s hard not to notice,
the sound as the water falls.
A jealous fountain glares
here in a beautiful garden.
Against time now,
there are thousands
of blinks and sighs
still to be given.
Violet slowly emerges
draped in a beautiful dress.
Her silhouetted beauty,
she glistens, truly
against the summer sun.
Violet
and her predictable smile,
barefoot amongst the flowers
she pulls a petal
“He loves me not.”
Her lover spins,
shooting her a look,
eyes locked up into eyes
she plucks the flower again,
in a soft
half broken whisper
“He loves me”.
Her lover coughs.
In her playful way
Violet unclasps her dress,
“oh he loves me not”
in her naughty tone,
eyes lock on her curves
the stained glass sky
highlighting her nakedness.
If only time would stop
Violet steps forward and ahead
“yes, he truly loves me”
she pulls
and takes
her lover’s hand.
The End.
*Violet kisses the perfumed stationary and sends it off to her poet.*
Dragonflypoetry.com 