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Gently


I brush your long, dark hair,
and speak to you quietly
though my heart’s at a gallop.

I’ve never held beauty so close.
She’s always bolted off
for the hills, a cloud

of dust trailing her like a long tail.
How I’ve followed her every time
till she was out of sight.

Walked slowly, you nuzzle
your face against mine.
My heart slows to a trot.

Love inevitably has periods
of cooling down. Even then
as we walk the fields

I pledge to speak gently,
quietly, the way I am now.
Love and hope, darling,

must be groomed tenderly.
The heart spooks easily.