My love is too delicate for daylight,
like dewy imaginations of misty mornings,
the soft, cool breath of falling maple leaves,
the hush of grassy murmurs in shallow brooks,
or the exultations of a wondrous, witchy child
waking to the realization that she is finally home.
Discarded Recollections 
Beautiful, poignant, and awe-inspiring. ❤ ❤
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You are too kind! But I thank you anyway. I enjoy the ideas of a delicate, softer kind of love. I am not a creature of intensity, for good or ill.
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Very inspiring ✨
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You are kind! Gentle, pastoral poetry makes for a nice change of pace to my usual brooding melancholia, but it all comes from the same smoky soul.
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