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A Meadow's Beauty

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A whisper,
A caress,
A silent sound.
A gesture,
A longing,
A quiet ground.
That's filled with a fog,
An unwanted mist,
A thief whose taking a quiet kiss,
That takes away from a meadow's beauty.
A lover's sigh,
A temporary high,
That spreads a black dye,
On a meadow's beauty.
A cold slick fog,
That rolls in unwanted,
And a cold slick man,
Begins to feel haunted,
And then, like a liar,
He gives in, despite warning.
And the meadow,
Once golden,
Is not a beauty in the morning.




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