He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

       





                    Petals fall golden in hue,

                    one by one soft to the touch.

                    Baskets of flowered hope end

                    in sad, "he loves me not."

                    Crying and running,

                    over love's broken glass.

                    Prism dreams are shattered

                    black and white.



                    Dawn awakens to bid goodbye

                    to the night's yawn.

                    The robin's cheery song is full of woe.

                    Love given was stripped

                    now stands naked and alone

                    Clothed only by the sun's warmth.

                    Left with nothing more than a yarn

                    of tangled thoughts.