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"STRAWBERRIES"
Strawberries in a white Texas dish keeps the fresh smell of dawn over the fields, of branches moss and icy springs. I put your bouquet of fragrant daisies on the tablecloth while you sit, pensive-eyed. In the solemn evening, I watch the moon slip silky through the leaves as it does. A pure warm breeze caresses the candle flames cradles wisteria and dim roses of the arbor. "Take some strawberries," you say, "Dip in sugar, they are better than golden champagne". Time has sprinkled powdered sugar on our heads. What does it matter, if only this evening you lean towards me, fearless of autumn and falling leaves blow out the candles for my moonbeam kisses.
