Betrothed

you're always on the run.

chasing the wind, with fire springing up  from your veins to no end

your  jaded jeans in silence screams of weariness.

your uber-indulgence enslaves the chances of seeing the moon rise when harvest time begins.

thy wings  never tire;

they fly a thousand miles to places unforeseen,

but away...

away from me.

so I stand still and planted my feet onto the ground

to catch when a feather falls;

saving thee.


     

Don't blink a second,no, don't sleep...

the betrothed moon will arise.

the sun will kneel and the stars will fall like rain

we will watch them in awe.

then there will be no chasing;

soon the wind will be tamed and your fire will find its home 

deep in my bosom. 

©jenh2015