Incandescence enters the window shining upon the grime of bygone flower sheets.

The aroma of old newspaper and ginger is enclosed in this time capsule.

Lord's day was always the pinnacle for a styled suit and fresh sweets;

calcium needing bones dress in clear morning clothes, they complement the wrinkles.

White button-up shirt, cream-colored set, star-studded dress shoes; he's going to impress.

Milky locks combed back with the same oil that has been around for centuries;

cologne so potent that it makes his ripe skin smooth without excess.

The glassy creak of the wooden floor and the tap of the cane bring back memories.

Debris is covering his ancient face from the golden creature; wind hit cold like those days.

Down historic streets to the café, the sky is her second form outside the cage...

Lass with flaxen hair, indigo eyes, and a pale dress is portrayed by rays;

the scent of sugar and freshness travels by each small store and gets better with age.

Doll sitting on a country porch with a sundress and a plate of biscuits on her side.

Bell rings as a crystal bubble gives way to the warmth of a mother's kitchen.

Laughter crosses both lines; boy and girl running with a smile so wide...

Bin filled with goodness by equal works of artistry, topped with a tragic vermillion ribbon.

Stained beam walking, sound of water and steps surround the second stop of love.

Cold stream under the orange tree that had a swing made of barn string;

tingles of citrus and a splashing dance when feet touch with a shove.

Queen of the fruit bearing flowers, that alluring moment was captured by a blank king.

Elegance of time in every drop of aqua from a woman that holds a pot like a child.

People cheer as he holds one of the gifts kindly, a mare is worth flowers.

Third stop to get to his lovely stagnant beauty smells of the wild;

owned by the soul that knows the truth and the weight of the order that never falters.

Camellias, Baby's Breath, and Bouvardias wait for him at a wooden table with red bows.

Cheeks flutter a blush when he remembers the play along ceremony with these;

fifty decades ago, love was under a tree, toys watched as they said their vows.

Young lips pecked with friendly disgust; crumbs on their hands were shattered into pieces.

Keeper of adoration watches from afar as the old man left leaves under a brown pot.

Similar mind's eye gaze at the washed figure consumed by undying loyalty;

in love with a tied-down angel that its wings have been left to rot.

Man of chained legs walks with two gifts in his hands; both represent eternal slavery.

The music of knowledge is heard by silence; he always arrives at the perfect tick.

Mansion of stories which intuited hearts dreamed of by each coin in a jar.

Stomachs on fall floors passed pages to get something of a peak;

ivory steps have made little clouds puff out, but that means that his love isn't far.

Marble floors and things that were created by godly entities are put to shame next to her.

The crisp cold preserves the waste, while he with smiling riches and time.

Woman with a glass shield has always been kind to let him in there.

Young intuition says he visits a dove on the same day; in his mind he sees one more sublime.

Slowly inwards, the memories and affection crash with so much force that tears fall.

Last day of fall when the deer were hunted, they sat under the tree of fate.

History holders on the grass and backs to the world; a shot was a call.

Cries were canceled out like a painter who's slashing the last drops of paint on a slate...

Long wooden bench and golden frame; sat down with heaviness while he shook.

Heaven's morning fell down in crystals as lost eyes looked for a response.

Sobbing his soul; to him loveliness has never been so nuke.

Wet earth was walked upon as strong men held her; he was too young to serve.

Cloudy vision had the courage to look up, coins they gathered were used for one;

man that saw the halls with passion now has slowly died of old bonds.

The first second he saw her bosom his desires were erased, gone.

Girl as gorgeous as the sky laid down in a field of ground kissing orange blossoms...

An old man's faithfulness was stolen by an innocent kiss; his story is worth salt.

In front of her he always says the same thing: "If you could age with me..."

Human of an armoured marrow tied by a velvet sting with no fault;

flowers, cookies, and fervor for a painted woman with a secret lover that will never be free.