A time and place,
A striking face,
So full of grace
Transfixed a day.
The laughing eyes
As wild as cries
In azure skies
Where falcons fly.
My heart was set,
I wished we'd met;
Could not forget,
Could not relent
Love so entrances,
Exchanging glances,
I fancied chances,
But took the stance
That, age in mind,
To her more kind
For me to grind
It out inside.
A bitter pill,
And, good or ill,
She haunts me still,
Against my will
Deep in its hole,
With empty bowl
This aging soul
Just won't grow cold.
Copyright of this work is held by Charles Macfarlane, who licenses it under a
Creative Commons Licence (Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales)