Author Information
Winnie ( Fruit Stone )
Winnie sits alone in her room stroking a kitten
And quietly confides in it that she has been smitten
By some boy today who gave her pause
Love so pure she could disregard his flaws
He skinned her an apple so moist and white
And sat down by her to her wondrous delight
She smiled, closed her eyes and let him speak
Sweet like the songs from a bluebird's beak
As if he'd tapped into some yearning she'd hid
While soft shadows passed before she eyelid
He stopped and appologized as if he'd said too much
She looked and fell in love as he grinned and blushed
A picture of him marks her place in her journal
Growing from her heart which is its' tender kernel
She's still young with a wealth of emptions to discover
Time to learn how to be a wife, a lover and maybe a mother
Her cards and poems fill and spill with joy
Revealing sweet affection time must not destroy
Sometimes her notions are dreamy and bold
Outstanding in ways one might gently scold
Knowing how much she doesn't like licorice
Him aware of her prayer and precious wish
For now she's contented just to love the day
No fear of rain though the sky has gone grey
After the storm when the garden was still wet
She picked the strawberries and laid them at his step
Right then she saw him smiling in the window
For a moment she thought to let him know
How she longed to be his country bride
These feelings she had were to sweet to hide
But she held them back for they weren't ripe
Someday those dreams would be hers to gripe
She concealed a poem in a pink envelope
Suddenly feeling the urge to skip rope
She spun and danced on the cobblestone
And she savored her grand romances alone
