I am reposting this as an entry for EIF Poetry Challenge #16. This was originally published on Conceited Crusade here.
September days and it’s your voice,
in rustling leaves,
you touched me first –
inside my mind,
you stole my breath. I hold your name
like a reverent monk,
I snatch what is left, this glow from my skin-
it remains, unfurls,
cascades to the tips of trees,
it touches the sun who comprehends-
who lives and breathes this silence I speak.
Tricia Sankey 
Enchanting! Thank you for your entry Tricia 😊
Just dreaming of sunshine today! 🌞
I don’t blame you!
“This silence I speak” – lovely romantic paradox. 🤗
Thanks! ❣️
You’re welcome! 🙂