Love Sonnet XLIII

sitting by Willow Creek

Love Sonnet XLIII

 

In those early morning dreams,

where crisp air carried your breath

across my neck, and I remember

how we would cuddle to greet the Dawn.

 

Magic comes alive in these early

hours; how mist and fog

scurry down the meadow

fading into the Sun’s light

 

as it rises in the East. There is

magic revealed in bird songs

sung to the rushing waters of Willow Creek.

 

We would sit down there, backs

against the old Oak, watching the

night fade… and a new day begin.

 

Aztec Warrior / redzone 5.18.25

Author's Note

....thanks for reading