Touch Wood

An unseasonable lamp
Stays my side,
As rays of the sun
And shimmers of the nights,
Reassuring words of love
With her hands in mine! 

Like the touch of the wind
On a scorching day, 
She is that touch wood
Amidst the decaying logs,
Making space for me to 
not seek more but enjoy the lesser!

Within the narrow lost trails
Of her secret garden,
We dwell deeper 
Unraveling profound mysteries,
Looking out for connections 
And ending up with the strangest everything!

Credits & Footnote

Inspired by Sadje’s ‘What Do You See Prompt #100’. 

Featured Image:
James Wheeler on Unsplash