Poetry by Jennifer Susan Smith
Love waned atop clouds in August’s last dance,
above my reach, beyond my grasp, concealed
from eyes that believed in a second chance.
Summer ebbed lyrics my love song revealed.
As faded sun welcomed harvest’s first chill,
romance retreated when forlorn leaves fell,
and fall-frosted pumpkins circled morning still,
no love story that autumn’s moon could tell.
All soulmates do not whisper, sing, or write
verses vowing eternity through rhyme,
poems of ocean-drenched kisses at midnight,
October sonnets bound in words and time.
On solstice of winter, his blue eyes free,
my hues on canvas, artist painted me.
Jennifer Susan Smith, a retired speech-language pathologist, resides in northwest Georgia. Her writing is published or forthcoming in The Bluebird Word, WELL READ Magazine, First Literary Review-East, and Letting Grief Speak. She is chairman of Alpha Delta Kappa Pages and Pearls Book Club, and holds membership in Chattanooga Writers’ Guild.
