The spell she cast
Was weak
It wouldn’t last
But for this one day’s length
It would give her strength
For a task she’d rather not
To dig a grave
For a love she’d never forgot
Thereafter
The weeds could grow again
To obscure the place
Where they had lain
crispina kemp 
Bittersweet and beautifully written, Crispina.
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Thank you, Dale. Drawn from symbolic language
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Lovely.
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💖😎💖
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💞
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This is beautiful 💜💜💜
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Thank you. Playing with symbols. Hawthorn is the witch’s tree. Bindweed binds. Its leaves are hearts. So I cobbled it all together
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and you did it so well 💜💜
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Sad but beautiful 💔
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And yet it is done in remembrance
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This is a real heartbreaker, Crisp. Such sadly beautiful memories. 😢
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Thank you. Not personal, you understand. Just inspired by the juxtaposition of plants
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