Stopped Clocks.
Lush and mysterious was that garden oasis.
Hearing a step on the path behind
I felt memory birthing another.
A face from the past makes my heart sing.
We had buried ourselves in this thicket
of jasmine and painted
one night with voluptuous colour.
Potent those smiles brushed with intrigue.
Stopped clocks cannot crumble moments
of given love nor can time ever
alter what back then we tinged with gold.