sweet solace

These days, as the poetry of you
is dancing in a clearing,
and light flickers on the tree trunks
you glide through shadows into bright,
to warm me more
than any fire could.

Words release a symphony,
this joy tumbling from my lips
as laughter,
while sands get washed anew
by times and tides of dreaming,
so these first colours on the canvas
of an easel
set sweet solace
to my missing you.