You and I

The flowers are pressed upon the brittle page

Your gentle fingers fall upon each stem

My heart drifts back in a subtle daze

This is the day I remember when

Your hand was warm and soft in mine

You it whispered deep and low

A secret lay in my ear that night

A begging for you to go

A wishing for you to stay

The tempting, begging, pulling

That was the secret in which my heart lay

All of this I was willing.

Now you and I in the quiet hours,

Watch as we are pressing Flowers.