Salutations, dear friends!

As I age, I find myself gravitating toward things that endure. I suppose, in part, because my own mortality has become more fathomable.

And whilst I swipe Death’s cold-fingered grip off my shoulder for yet another day, I choose to find contentment in enduring things like love, beauty, and loyalty.

This poem seeks to explore the gratitude found there.

I hope your heart soars in the love story of these two trees… and perhaps finds those connections to appreciate just a wee bit more in your own life.

As always, please let me know your thoughts and feelings in the Comments Section below.

-PS Conway ☘️ ☘️ ☘️

☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️


two trees stand on an island in a lake

since time immemorial they have shared

whispered adorations every night

under moonlight soft in her cool caress

in their seclusion, their love bloomed full

and graceful, like their bowers that towered

skyward, invocations of gratitude

to those same stars they had watched grow old

like their roots burrowed deep, fingers intwined

intimate and fine, secret and divine,

interleaved prayerful in their holy oaths

handfast and steadfast, bound in devotion

their souls stir to nightingale song, to know

ere long all forevers must have their end

one last full moon, one final star to fall

yet thankful for all they have seen and been…



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