Seen from atop of the hill where the apple tree blossoms
The sun sets here with true loves adoration
Only those with hearts unadjoined
find their minds wandering here
pondering the missed opportunity
or the bad timing of love lost
with continued yearning.
Falling into routine
back into the row of life
it flows and grows and goes
with mild reflections
Then with a grasp from the past
comes a melody or a memory
that forms the apple blossoms into shape
and the mind wanders up the lane
to perch atop lost loves hill.
by Melissa Rubin
© (all rights reserved)
The sun sets here with true loves adoration
Only those with hearts unadjoined
find their minds wandering here
pondering the missed opportunity
or the bad timing of love lost
with continued yearning.
Falling into routine
back into the row of life
it flows and grows and goes
with mild reflections
Then with a grasp from the past
comes a melody or a memory
that forms the apple blossoms into shape
and the mind wanders up the lane
to perch atop lost loves hill.
by Melissa Rubin
© (all rights reserved)