Sono del Lago

Pines rise and sway,
Waving against soft blue
staining in the sun.
Fresh scents trail
as a taste in the
heavy air breeze.

Vague curves mark
warm skies just as the
lines of my love,
Sustenance for a
struggling heart pushed
by deepest plain.

At the edge of the cool
only playful joy disturbs
the burbling quiet,
Clearest rest so pure
as to be drunk,
Lapping at tired feet.

If there was ever a place
that is you, then it is
this soft ground, where
the lake’s waves kiss
over and over and
over.

Sono del Lago

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