Shadows lay upon the wind,
Swans cuddle
and bond
Like a thousand winters,
But it’s not
been that long;
She was waiting for April,
And April’s
time has took,
For her love to soon return
This she
noted in her book.
The subtleties of April’s end,
Wishing an
April had not been,
Tears fall from eyes of grace
Where seasons
are like a brook,
They flow at their own pace,
But a heart
is marked by time
As April will soon drift away…
But love
interlaces her mind.
Epaphroditus© April 8, 2008
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