She walks alone through the garden,
Her gossamer gown dampened by the dew.
The birds are all wings and whistles,
Fluttering about the branches,
As a frosty mist swirls around,
Where her warm breath
meets the chilled morning air.
With metered steps she seems to float along,
Stopping to savor a fragrance here,
Or gather some fallen fruit there,
Smiling softly to herself all the while.
The blaze of sunrise has been subdued
In the brilliant blue of endless skies,
And now the day and all it holds is hers,
Or so she innocently believes.
There’s a lust about today,
Lurking in the shadows,
Biding time to make its introduction.
She’ll fall for the gracious salutation
Of a gentleman kissing a lady’s hand,
Not seeing the sordid face behind the demure smile,
Or the journey about to begin.
With a tentative bite of the bait,
Laid at her feet along the way,
The deceit will now be complete,
And her dreams will belong to her no more.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane