Tree Tops…

In the tree tops; where you house
your favourite memories –
Is there still a branch; left free for me.
I’d like to think that the flowers we once did gather,
still clasp their fragrance well.
For all that we have been – with thoughts of more to follow.
Did we not come together
barren pale of skeletons, torn from old hurtful lovers conflicts.
Avenging what we both always knew to so be wrong.
I shall let it be known–that we loved each other.

I have the mind to ask  – would you
permit us; to re-trace those since faded steps.
Was loneliness ever so set in stone
that it can offer no relief?
Ghosts surge where our laugher
did stride the shore.
Why are we always are the last to see
those changes that creep beneath our eyes
until up they rise, striking vehemently for their liberty.

If: the only sound that summons me –
is to be the silence of your silence.
Then please let it be known: how I never stopped
listening for your words of “welcome home” my love!

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