…forever wild

The night
holds her secrets close
yet her beauty
she unfolds
like blossoms
in the spring

the languid shifting
of the leaves
whispering softly
like a lover
as the gentle
perfumed breeze
caresses
all her hidden curves

and the serenade
of the nightingale
reaches into all
the corners of darkness
lingering
like memories lost

poignant
and beautiful
beyond words
the shadows tremble
with desire
and the weeping stars
are free falling
aching
to become as one
with the night
running forever wild
in their untamed fires

© Ann Bagnall