The Eastern Gate Part I

He left by the Eastern Gate Slipping through the fading light Before they closed the city Against fast approaching night. They first tumbled in the grass Under a tree still growing there, Her skirts as disarranged As the wind disarranged her hair. He had loved her with a passion But a love that had to sadly end, For while he loved her as a lover, She had just loved him as a friend. He stood at her wedding Then before it was too late Slipped from their city Through the Eastern Gate. She missed him for a long time, But as time slipped surely by She could recall his name With regret and maybe a sigh. Sometimes at the Eastern Gate, With a casual sort of care, She lays bouquets of flowers By a tree still growing there.