A Poet Was He

Love is having, love is lost Love believing that it is the key This is what love is to me Way back in ninety five When I met a poet A poet was he He took me by the hand Taught me about love We were friends We were lovers To the bitter end He would read poems in my ears Would write my name like I was a goddess Like no other With a magic swirl Held me like I was his dear He kissed the light in my soul Held me with an inspiration We danced barefoot in the dark Kissed in the grass in the park Explored the avenues of our minds Took me by surprise in never-never land He listened to my songs Helped me share my heart Kissed my very soul There were no tears Then he was gone The beauty of him Took me by surprise Our breath was ours For the taken And oh the lovemaking My life have been filled Lots of events With lots of tragedy and laughter But few regrets Looking back over the past So glad of memories To make it last As I experienced the pain Of loss of my poet lover friend In the end I survived and live With what is left I will never forget The friend I had What I have seen What was felt! I do stand, laugh and love I still Shed a tear As well as fear At the end of time Before I die I’ll never forget my poet And a Poet was he! Brooke Dyan 2014