A place where all the good things go
Like pictures of your bluebell woods
And cherry trees in blossoms white,
And small, still frogs in silent ponds.
Of spring, of sun,
Your pretty legs in summer dresses,
And flower fairies on the terrace.
Of family and friends and lovers,
And conversations late at night
Of journeys made and those imagined.
Of pasts, and futures, and the present.
A key to souls who mingle.
A gift, a haven, my treasure trove.
©jsmorgane, April 2020