A Story of Lovers

A poem written in the earlier years of my youth.

She sails along silver streams like cotyledon from a birch tree,

The wind brazens her drift to the pale narrow sea,

The peaking of golden lambent illuminates her tips,

Where her lover awaits her scarlet lips,

And when they greet on the mother’s blessed deep ocean pits,

She arises in bronze with gleaming crystal in her midst,

A treasure bestowed to two lost lovers eye,

Before she fades once more to the beryl sky,

“A sign of our favor with the Gods” they shout,

Two souls in sync without despair or doubt,

And when darkness finally hides the sky’s glistening hue,

The golden sphere tips into its hidden lieu.  

Author's Note

Much needed!!!