Navy violets and pale roses

               A bit of kindness in the one windowed home.
A soft breeze pulls throughout and the gentle warmth
invites you to sit.

               Here I tap the empty spot beside me. Asking
in a silent voice, a transformed blue expression, to
please, please talk with me.

                 Alas even the I know I cannot persuade
your choice. A prayer is whispered and yet results
are unclear.

                            A hope.

                  So I close my eyes, storming a battle of
salted water, I lean my head back. No matter how,
what I feel I swallow hard. Accepting, acknowledging
I cannot demand any one person's attention.

                           A hope.

                 There, still, in the midst of all that is
tearing me down I find the positive. Still I cannot
grasp it, cling to it because is isn't mine to command.
So I search in my mind for a tucked away memory.
There, yes there, I am found enjoying your company.

                 Hmm. The scars are there of the hopes lost.
So much is restored inside parched expressions. The
echo of love, of graciousness follows through a long,
cool hallways beckoning for solidarity.

                  Oh how I hope. Patience and humility
are remembered as the wind swirls coppery strands
across my face. Drying up the wounds and creating
a smile across pale roses.

                  My eyes open their startling navy violet.
See you in a hope. One where time allows you to just
sit and talk with me.