beneath
linden blossoms
words
are spoken
old
as the moon
and
they cease
with
one kiss
flowers
yellow
as July's sun
give
fragrant shade
bees
take their honey
while
we take ours
yesterday
those
flowers were buds
and
we
strangers
searching
for
each other
today
mirrored
images reflect
past
blooms
and
tomorrow
who
knows
the
blossoms
will
fall and cover the pond
but
today
they
are so very sweet
and
ours to savour
the
trees
may
turn red in autumn
but
come spring
they
will become yellow and fragrant
and
blossom for us once more
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