Puddles

It didn’t matter
But the feeling of his presence;
Alongside her.
Her thoughts apart,
She secretly hoped for more,
His charisma beside.

Navigating through a wish;
It was hopeless.
Nothing more than a ghost
To her longing;
Telling a need for more than
Rippling imagery in their surface,
Unafraid for the depths of his affection.

She looked to the puddles;
How their feet seemed to create
Pictures,
Of an endless sky.
Much to their loveliness;
Drying with their bloom.

Coming in tales,
He said it wasn’t easy.
A shame to part with such
Allure.
To begin again, their trek of
Friendship.

Coming with the circles of gray;
The images began to fade into the
End of their path.
She began to wither with the
Wait of their return.
To come back and haunt her,
To chase the tales of their wrinkles;
On the opaque façade.

Oblivious to the design;
Moving with the gust of time,
He met her to the start.
Wadding on the waves of his ease,
To the breaking pools of her absolution.
Guessing the puzzles of their questions;
Telling tales of the beginning.

But she secretly knew
That it couldn’t be more
Than images cascading;
In the shadows
Of rippling mirrors
Upon the face of wavering puddles.

Poem by annajade

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