A golden head and desperate eyes enchant.
The moon has melted high beyond the walls
of night. A meeting: fearful lovers glance
around the garden, bright as darkness falls.
While roses twist through cracks and crumbling stone
our lovers cry and pray with bated breath.
No sound escapes their lips, no laugh nor groan.
Their parents warned them stop on pain of death –
the garden grows while lovers only wish
to last the day. Escape would set them free,
but risk of capture soon destroys such bliss.
They keep their secrets shaded by the trees.
The garden holds them safe inside, tears
absorbed into the moss, along with fear.