If i find thee reading*

If i perchance, find Thee
Reading , reclining , one morning,
At our garden of blooming flowers,
Do keep the belief, i will never Thee call,
Startling you is not my way,
To get Thee into the grove of our Love
And life, instead, i will sit somewhere
And try to do, what spring summer morning does
To nature the Refuge of us all,

I will not thee call,

Instead i will do what spring summer morn does
To the woken birds,
I will fill thy surrounding
With more of my roses,
Poems and rhyming patterns,
Feeling assured they will make you
Not to turn to me, but to that horizon
Where sun rises, and sets too,
As our Love gathers on petals and leaves
Our scattered dreams, few, like drops of nascent dews.

(*Note: the painting attached upon which the poem/scribbling is loosely based, was done by V.Volegov. The painting was gifted to me by a friend mine)


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