Lovely Strands

Gold silk, which fell
nearly to her waist.
A shade betwixt
sunshine and honey;
Soft and full, it lay
against her neck.
Deep green eyes shown
from behind, what gently
framed her face.
Breezes would coax
the lovely strands
to twine themselves, and
wrap about her lovingly.
Shorn, by a cruel and
jealous blade, strands of silk
and the salt of tears
freefall to the ground.
Slow to land,  saddened wind
conveys tenderly
it's feathery weight.
To surrender, what once it prized,
dull and lifeless, at her feet.

By:  Graci
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copyright 2000 -- Lorrie Workman