I sit under the Greenwood Tree
The Barn Owl plays the symphony.
The thought of you possess my mind
It aches in places, undefined.
The sands of time slip quick they say
Each grain for me is yesterday.
Rummaging through the days bygone
I hold on to the fondest one.
I sit thus till the evening dies
And with it fades my blush and smile.
The Raven croaks and winds the day
My sequestered soul but longs to stay.
( Please support my insta poetry page @wordpolitics )