Bloom

Our love is real and true, at least in my head.

The dreams I've dreamt of us are not yet dead.

I can picture your eyes, blue as the turbulent sea.

And I hear my own laugh, bright with innocent glee.

In a sweet little scene I play on repeat in my mind,

Hopelessly hoping it's true love that I'll find.

If you discover me one day, with prayer and luck,

From the weeds and grasses, a flower you'll pluck.

I'll bloom in your tender care with purest elation, 

If only you'll love me with your greatest adoration.

(NaPoWriMo 1)