Trees Of Jasmine

Trees of Jasmine

Young lovers walking hand in hand,

Teased and laughed along cobblestone track.

They walked among trees of jasmine,

And spoke of a place called Tamarack.

Church mice happy to have a crumb,

Feasted at balls like faraway kings,

But at their cozy home and hearth,

The two alone cherished finer things.

Escape to a path few had tread,

Brought flowers by a rushing stream.

Curving trail… you lead, I follow.

In your loving arms is where I dream.

Death Is Never More Beautiful

In unwavering reverence,

We watch as she dances,

Hues of autumn adorn her ever reaching branches.

With a natural pluck,

Each canvas spirals down,

Until nothing but death now blankets the ground.

For so long we have sought,

The solitude of her darkest places,

Forced from shadows we now bare our own faces.