A drawing. Sweet drawing. By me. Seeing her eyes. Looking ahead. Hope. Faithfulness. Love. I know her. She is me. My muse. My everything. My love. She is always changing. Appearances. Fall. She dies. Drawn. Seen. Whatever.
growth to winter come
bread or a new beginning
bluebells cannot choose
.·: † :·.
This poem is shared on the prompt of dVerse | here |.