Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Ball etched with ginko leaves


Turn away softly,
as we disengage eyes,
charts out of alignment,
the reason we sigh.

Love kept between two,
cannot bloom in deep shade,
like a tender young seedling,
it will wither and fade.

Hearts blended as one
will never forget,
for they have torn halves,
that perfectly fit.

So, turn away, oh so softly,
remember our smiles,
turn again, you’ll betray,
the love still in our eyes.