The Wild Ash by Ruslan Bolgov
The Wild Ash

Oh, my Wildflower, grown ripe
whose warmth stirs my passion,
if I can buy out an hour’s charm
in your presence: beholding those eyes
so beautiful and innocent of ill,
being referred to by your unkissed crimson lips
will bright be the laughter of its shine?
To which I’ve daily made craving of my thoughts?
Or will they be dim and gloomy towards me?
When the anticipation of our next meeting
glows ripe in the depths of my heart;
when my senses struggle with my will in vain
to drive the bare eagerness of seeing that dear face
and sniffing that well-known perfume.
Till then, I’ll ease not my tortured heart
but say: “Wildflower, remember me
ne’er bid goodbye, let not infant love
like fallen leaf wilt to rot.”

© Ugo Nkwoala | TheVillageGong | 2020

Featured image: The Wild Ash photograph by Ruslan Bolgov

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