Love Unperturbed

Regrets are best, left to smoulder as ashes in the grate, undisturbed yes, now they'll burn without closure but that's how love grows, unperturbed. Gentle puffs of air once rightly directed can rekindle fires—thought long dead. Please let your heart, not be neglected once a well-placed spark turns infrared. If you've some dying flame in your heart already a fire to spark and burn, you'll touch some heat, residual not dark unearthed, paint a starry, Nocturne. But like wet oil, fresh on canvas still to be stretched permanently, fixed. You'll be glad you left ochre ashes- of regret to burn fully eclipsed. As a measure of the sunrise -shining, glowing right with you now so later coldly you can summarise embers fervour, dying with own two eyes. A love unperturbed with no regrets let it burn, simmer in its flames a part of your old life vignettes escapades turned blue in old campaigns.