I should have read the signs,
but when in love
who’s not illiterate?
I did not care,
For all I knew was you.
The fragrance of
your flowers mysterious
that filled the air,
your moonlit stones that shone
beneath my feet,
your echoes, whispers, sighs —
all lured me in
till I was lost and gone,
trapped in the sweet
arcade of yester days,
your heart within.
Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)
The Met Cloisters
