|Ashley Elizabeth Old|
Your face, sculpted as from rose quartz.
Sun sparkles bounce off you as you move;
your dress, feather light, barely touching your skin.
Your hair softly brown, flows like music in the wind.
Your rhythms dance allegro
leaving a shadow of melody as you depart.
Only a trace scent of lilac and lavender petals
track the places where you've been.
I close my eyes and think of you; I am young
like you. The world is fresh, ever-changing;
a sea of tomorrows we are meant to explore.
We fly through forests of cherry trees,
we sleep under canopies of silk;
we dream peace flourishes and hopes succeed.
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 7/24/13