Would that love be simple
a quiet wood, whispering breeze
to follow its journey
whistling through the trees.
In wintertime a naked forest
glance upon the exposed
a vulnerable sort
this is our humanity.
When once there might sparkle
beauty in our own naive wonder.
We did then dream, wish we
might carry on, silent mystique.
For is it want drives our soul
beyond this need felt once while.
Please I would love you to share words, suggestions …