Your Magic

Your Magic

The leaves are falling

There is the scent of honeysuckle

And roses, in the air

This day

Is yielding to evening now


You are all I am waiting for

Your face

Haunts my dreams

You are my home

You are my love

The magic

That you weave in me

Is like the heavens

Poured out

Like the moon

Melting into the night

Too softly

For anyone to hear

© Ann Bagnall and, 2014. 


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