Poetry

Wild aloes, some proteas grow along the forest path,
some mushrooms are sprouting near to it
 
and doves sit cooing in trees as if in love,
the sky is hued with a deep blue
 
and a light wind rustles through the trees
like a new visitor coming to watch the picture perfect view
 
with the ocean lying far below, clearer than jade
your hand in mine, with sweet promises made.