Reposing on her bed, and viewing the starry nocturnal heavens gazing at her mulling over what went wrong.

Discreet and serene hours of darkness it is wrangling with “yours truly”,

summoning up the “whole kit and caboodle”
eyes sparkling, when the tears drawn together,

as though the moonlight is caressing her, seeking its way down to those soft cheeks of hers,

a chill in her heart scuffling its way out,

those drops of tears one by one drenched in her pillow,

narrating a tale of her agony and grief face laid to rest deep in the bounds of her caressing mate,

brushing her face on it,

it passes her on to the pathway to la-la land so that she forgets the whole shebang hoping,

for a new kick off guiding, to the next soothing sunshine that first ray parching its way moreover, making her deem;

“nothing chanced the other day”.


© wilvi