Memories like wine can improve with time. Cellared is a reminder to let the season due their wonder and prove that all love at its root is unconditional.
As I humble about in dazed wonderment entranced, wishing somehow I could embrace the entire being of your words, I pause, give thanks, for life giving me a dream.
You have explored and traversed all the aspects of life there. Seasons come and go, yes, very true, similarly, happy moments and sad moments occur alternatively. It is we who have to learn how to deal with them. You talk of unconditional love, and your manner of doing so is impressive. Anyway, is it love if it isn't unconditional? Because you have terms and conditions in treaties and agreements, love is something whose depth we cannot fathom. Good one. Keep writing.
dear Pryde... "stripped of shade and care...
forgotten fruit ripened... fall to the ground...
fermented to wine... Summer's come and gone...
Open the cask... let it breathe...
Lips part... taste... wish you with me... ".
Beautiful harvest memories of a heart laden with love...
Now the long cold winter with the rebirth of spring...
truly romantic overture... Pat
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