Love in the Air

There comes a temperate zephyr, whose breeze unlike denizens have felt. It's gentle whispers bringing blossoms to sleep. Softly doth thou brush over yonder that I shall compare thee to the lips of a young maiden, bestowing even the cowardly, courage and the vulnerable, protection. Shouldst thou depart with fleeting grace, thine touch shall linger within my remembrance, a warmth that neither fades nor clings. Now, I bid thee adieu! As I walk the path that is bound to cross yours. -MG