He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
I sit among a field of springtime clover
Honeybees gathering sweet nectar as they hover
I'm daydreaming of last night's encounter
Right here on this fragrant carpet of green and white
Were the kisses real?
Was the moon that bright?
I pull petals from a daisy, one after the other
Chanting, he loves me, he loves me not, my lover
Here among a field of springtime clover
2-24-2013. ©Donna Jones
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