he longed for the touch of her fingers, her sweet-smelling hair that fell in soft curls. It had been almost yesterday when she lay her head on his chest, the weight of her laugh still lingering in his head.
he waited, by the trees, the brooks, the valleys, her appearance was seldom unwavering. He dreamt of starry nights, of her eyes glistening in the moonlight, of the definate protrusions of bones on her fine skin.
she would come, his longing defied all resistance.
PS- not a very good attempt, nevertheless.
