Cinnamon Night Poem by T J Morgan

The cinnamon scent of the night stirs memories of explicit joy. A distant seagull heralds its victory on the glistening shore, and as I listen to the gentle rhythm of the velvet waves, I am transported back to the very second my lonely world rocked.
A smile full of mystery and desire, you scorched my inner self and branded my soul. In that one captured moment, forever seared into my heart, you passed me my wine. Chianti, rough and demanding, I remember the taste well. Eyes locked, recognition ignited, and the promise that was begun, was fulfilled and nurtured. Now as I sit on the sun-warmed pebbles, I return reluctantly to the present. Watching the shimmering glory of the sunset, I finally lay my sorrow to rest. The crushing weight of our parting is lifted and as I sit and wait for the dawns birth, I can, at last, look to the future.