Camouflaged
Wearing camouflage
in wall-flower tradition
no longer seeing another
who’ll take the time to peer within.
Perpetually in autumn’s dress,
near the deep sleep of winters cold,
though nothing close to bitterness
in her tresses could one behold.
With tranquility the foundation
of each new days new sun rising
True beauty flows unseen
winding gracefully between
past’s mountains.
As the parting lights of each sunset
blushes the cheeks of a day’s survival
the night begins in loving hope
of a dream that will bring revival
Casting camouflage
aside with dreams of him;
the only one who took the time
to see and peer within.
©Debra Squyres 2015
1/3/15
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