Another twitter flow poem
Lay it to rest, the love that died,
plant a yew tree at its heart,
let it be and let it grow,
no regrets, no pleas to start anew,
let tomorrow blossom free.
Moonlight wanders on the lake,
silver water laps the shore.
Where did it go the moonlit love,
gone with the dreams I dream no more?
In the old stone, voices whisper,
memories of warmth and fire.
Should I kindle the cold hearth’s flame
I will add my words one day to theirs,
for stone lives longer than our puny bones,
its ageless silence softer than our raucous songs.
I will never be the cold stone in the path,
the branch that snags,
the stinging wasp.
For you, I will always be
the sun on the grass,
the morning dew,
and the lark singing
where the river meets the sea.