The garden is lovely

all spiky eared

discolored leaf

ginger snaps of

dead bramble

cut off in their prime

it has pathways

to amble along

in a freezing wind

Under forbidding sky

Shattered glass

Broken dreams

Finding myself

In the fragments

Star struck


we were

a romance of

dreams shared

late into

the night talks

about everything

respected opinions

held confidences

time cherished

as close as perfect

as one can hope ……..

in Love

Winds whispered

sweet melodies

of her songs

mountains echoed

the symphony of

of her heartbeats

The real truth

when it finally transpires

is rarely as dire

as we imagined

it would be..

Our pessimistic bent

does lend itself

to concocted drama scenes

more imaginary than reality.

what i feel I paint it

what i feel i enact it.