She gracefully squirmed under the sun,
Her hair tailing behind.
Her hands softly touched the growing fields.
As she looked for the sign.
She roamed her eyes,
Intently looking around,
Finding the ones in stark contrast to hers,
As her feet fiddled with the growing grounds.
She chose a white dress,
His favourite colour, as she remembers,
All of those hiding smile they exchanged,
Like two immature lovers.
She wasn't supposed to be here,
A thought that occurred every dawn.
Yet, her legs dragged her everyday.
Towards this alluring lawn.
Her eyes finally met his,
And she felt herself being drawn.
Like a moth to a flame,
It was something about the peace it offered, That refers beyond.
At that moment, she knew,
It was wrong.
At that moment, she knew,
It is right here where she belongs.
Fallacious as it can be,
Dangerous, to seek a lover you see,
He took her hand in his, as her heart did summersaults,
It's not their fault, that the heart wants what it wants.
YOU ARE READING
Of Dreams And Desolation
PoetryThese are just the collection of small poems that I write. I write poems of all kind so there is no particular emotion. But you'll enjoy it😁😁
