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She sat beside the waterfall
where gushing thoughts cascade,
like tears that flowed along her cheeks,
her heart set to invade.

He left alone for pastures new.
A scribbled note in haste
he wrote then fled, as cowards do,
her heart a barren waste.

A lightning bolt out of the blue
that pierced her heart; she bled.
Much later on the ache still hurt;
her feeble wings unspread.
 
She dared not heed the tumbling sound
as water crashed on rocks.
How fit to let death end the pain!
She started down the walk.

But just before the water’s edge
a voice called out, “Be Ware!
The road you walk is treacherous;
for God’s sake, stand right there!”

He turned her round, and saw her face
spill tears upon her gown.
He whispered in her windswept hair
“One misstep and you’ll drown.”

“Please, let me go, you do not know
what burns here in my breast.
I need to douse these flames and find
my sweet eternal rest.”

She struggled then against his arms,
the longed for end so near,
and yet he held with all his might,
spoke words to still her fear.

And when all limp she leaned on him,
this man she did not know,
he soothed her as he said these words:
“I will not let you go.”

Drained of resolve she let him lead
from rock to lush verdure,
as reassurance kindled trust,
his hand was firm, secure.

They sat beneath a shady tree.
Engrossed, they talked at length,
and in the process she revealed
his presence gave her strength.

He held her hands, looked in her eyes,
his heart worn on his sleeve
as they agreed to meet again
before she had to leave.
 
She touched his face, with gentle grace,
leaned in to kiss his cheek;
her lips just trembled there a while
enough to make him weak.

“You’ve saved my life, and now I owe
the greatest debt to you.
When next we meet, after we greet,
I’ll give you what’s your due.”

He smiled into her upturned eyes
and said these simple words:
“I’ve been repaid with sweetest kiss
my heart and soul you’ve stirred.

We’ll meet again, and when we do
you will forget the past
for then, my dear, I’ll make a vow
of love that’s sure to last.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Paul Callus & Eileen Manassian ~ Sept 2019)
(A Callman Collaboration)
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