love buried in prayer,
bears a star-ish fate,
pushes light tight to the dew-scented ground.
we waited and waited with
dandelion-finite-fingertips capturing
light-sprouted-forms beneath a bench dedicated,
in loving memory of and to,
lonely, half-starved souls who save each other...
in proper order of appearance...
centuries apart,
with a distance softer than the
flushed faces of eternal lamplight.

~ Love & Blessings, Janet ~ 
3 old applause
