Initials

The old painting in black and white
mesmerized a young girl that night.
She reached out to touch the glass
and began to fantasize about the past.
A beautiful girl pressed against a tree
embraced the trunk as she did see
his initials and hers so proudly displayed
within a heart precisely carved and made.
Her own true love forever to await
while the silver moon shined within her gate.
Will he come to kiss her this very night
and gently tell her everything is all right?
The old painting in black and white
mystified me that very night.
I reached out to touch the glass
and finally fulfilled my dream at last.

by Carol Ann Yasuhara

Other poems of CAROL ANN YASUHARA (2)

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