It Was Not Love at First Sight

By PoeticMeditations

It was not love at first sight, I must confess,
But a gradual awakening like the coming dawn;
Its rosy light spreading slowly over the darkness,
Over the quiet slumbering hills and sleeping fawn.
No Cupid’s arrow let fly from his enchanted bow;
Speeds unerringly to strike the unsuspecting mark.
More like a gentle nudge rather than a sudden blow
That moves the heart to forget oneself – to disregard.
Until the realization like a seed begins to sprout,
Takes root before the tender stem from the ground breaks free
To spread its verdant leaves as the sun beams dance about
And through the years matures into a towering tree.


About poeticmeditations

A 19th-century romantic poet living in the 21st-century. The Romantic poets, nib pens, candlelight, waistcoats, and pocket watches are a few of my favorite things.
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