Moss strands hangs thick.
The ancient oaks bend to ground.
The gardens hold secrets.
Rendezvous traces linger in places
Phantoms wait to dance.
Partners long departed from Earth.
Eyes look past them.
Their forms still sit on benchs.
They linger next to trees.
The reflections show in the ponds.
A gentle time hid them.
Modern world chooses to forgot them.
The world spins further away.
The gardens down South stay the same
In my rush, I gave you one back lol. TC.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I used to do public speaking. It was always a trick if people weren’t paying attention, I would misquote a famous quote. Everyone after that paid attention. 🙄
LikeLike
Sneaky. But yes, you found me out – well spotted!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have learned secrets. I have forgotten most in an effort to keep them secret, however.
LikeLiked by 1 person
it is habit with me and no problem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s a great habit! I’m writing in one sitting usually. So they happen a lot on my phone. Auto correct has composed some great posts!🙄
LikeLike
Yes, I can imagine! I was an editor/admin for ten yars of a lovely community based writing site, so it is hard to pass up, and I am always willing to help where I can.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙄
LikeLike
Hi, nice write. I came here through your Daily post entry ‘Grains’, and stayed to read a bit. I found this though which happens; – hope it helps.
‘Their forms stilk sit on benches.’
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for stopping by! Even more for the editting.i appreciate very much. I’ll go back and take care of that. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person