Fickle Love
FICKLE LOVE
The beauty of it all was not so real
until you touched my lips that summers night
to make love something that my heart could feel
and told me you'd be mine, if wrong or right,
no matter what the cost, you promised me
you'd always love me, even to the end
and I believed our love would always be
from you, my lover, and my special friend
but for some time I've watched you turn your eyes
if I should even try to touch your hand
and now I know that love, like time, it flies
but why is something we can't understand.
Your love's returned to where it used to be
perhaps one day it shall come back to me.
© Ron Wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)
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