Anthony Fry


Romantic Wind.


Love creating expectations, of perchance.
Warm embraces, carried on a perpetual wind.
Flirt with a handsome boy, melts body in mind. 
Meet in a valley of paradise, winds silent. 
Upon a hill high we sit, under an old oak in bliss.
It's then I steal a quick kiss, spring winds sigh.
Her face grins, at the open garden window.
Swirling golden hair, blowing in the wind.
Blossoms been and gone, fruits now swing.
Sunlight on the leaves, golden in the wind.



https://truml.com


print