Through that vine laden path,
Once how we holding each other, walked,
That had been perhaps a day of spring
The air had perhaps a beautiful swing
That came and played with us,
Through that shady oasis as we passed,
Fragrance of flowers, buds and leaves us caught
To a dream like state how they us brought,
As if we were treading a never ending path
Where winged Love had brought only mirth.
(*Note: upon a painting loosely based as attached; courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni, Alex Artista)
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