Brought to life by a rippling of the wind
a shaft of light spotlights the fallen leaves,
theatrical to say the very least
where the dense woodland had begun to thin.
Letting go to freedom, my normal mind
a ghostly spirit turns to catch my gaze,
like melody, a warmth between us plays
russet tresses falling, press to remind
me of a visage long ago forgot.
my eyes begin to prick with held back tears
wiped away are old emotion and fears.
Right is might forever, and wrong is not.
Gentle spirit of love has not yet left,
a heavy heart eternally bereft.
Daphne Belt 15.08.20
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