Foolishness
Foolishness
I listened to friendly reassurances that all would be well;
Though cut deep, the wound was not that deep and
The chances of coinciding in time and place were slim.
But chance has a habit of becoming certainty;
And the wound was deep enough that distant glimpses
Undid my steely resolve.
Still you are beautiful, with long lustrous hair like a
Waterfall to your waist, dressed to meet and impress
And your dark almond eyes that were blind to me.
The irrepressible Miss walked gracefully beside you,
Taller still, elegant with her ballet dancer’s posture,
Mother and daughter in harmony.
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