When Walking Poem by Emma Atkinson

The sun that warms me is your smile.
The skies with blue abandon, are your eyes,
And the thought of you ripples through me like water,
Serenity I never knew caught between my sighs.
Joy is the wind, the wind that delights the swallows.
My laugh, soft as the rustle of leaves follows,
A bliss in disbelief,
That you, dearest, speak to me, when but a while ago,
I sat with raindrops welling behind m eyes, silent as a stone,
And I, I had felt so alone.
Now, my smile is the sunlight on the lake,
Reflecting all my joy to you,
The sun, constant and true.
As your voice comesto me,
Gold- in beams and playful caresses
That shine in my auburn tresses.
In it, I find the sweetest pleasure,
Delicate as a winter flower,
And growing greater by the hour,
For sometime soon, dearest, we will speak again.