Each morning she welcomes me into her world.
The best part about it.
I am always glad I came, watching her pat her hand on a reserved spot inviting me to sit beside her.
A motivation for tired legs,
Our eyes resting after a light jog, over by the park bench.
Slowly watching our faith in each other raise from behind the clouds.
In due time I am drenched in the way that she makes me feel.
Even when we go our separate ways she is always there
Monday, January 23, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: for her,infatuation ,talking