The sun shone brightly, greeted with a smile,
As Nature came alive, he could not help
But think of old acquaintances and friends
Who may or may not be: — A chance to meet
With those he knew … to take them by surprise —
Perhaps himself, or others bid farewell.
O’ Night! Sad looking down ‘pon me —
The moon outshines the sulking stars,
Yet what is light that cannot be? —
A melancholic feeling mars
Emotions — those we cannot see.
Her golden tresses, crafted filigree,
So delicate, imagined, seldom seen,
For Beauty hides her face. This rarity;
Her smile, her eyes, adorn mine filigrene.
Across thy nose, a spray of freckles found.
Why would the Maker tarnish such a sight
As yours? You think to hide and pan the ground,
And only raise your eyes within the night.
If Life should ever close her knowing eyes;
Would Death erase her codicil of light?
Could Life give o’r to Death in silent cries
Of helplessness — as day becomes the night.
If ever there was one I wish to hold;
To idly walk together, hand in hand —
The one I yearn; she wears those tresses gold
That zephyrs coy had tossed and gaily fanned.
If I could rise to see a morning new —
Not one of old and agèd in its way,
I’d waken with those loving thoughts of you
Behold! The fields are flushed with color red!
Methinks not blood, but blood it may well be.
Behold the sight! Nay turn my head instead,
Avert mine eyes, this travesty I see.
Uncommon to these parts, he treads a path
Uncertain of direction, but he leaves
His past behind to walk this hallowed ground
In search of something diff’rent. Tracks that wind
And choke his mem’ry, each an olive branch
To offer peace of mind. Perhaps they would.