Love Is Unlike...
Love is unlike the game of chess,
as time moves on it matters less,
in absence, fonder grows the heart
of someone else less far apart.
The pressure fades upon the will,
and like a blue remembered hill
idealised in childhood ways
is bare remembered nowadays.
Emotions stray and gravitate
to other souls when time grows late
and vows once made with ease are broke,
"I love you" with fresh glibness spoke.
Is this the way it ends for us,
no bang, no whimper, mess or fuss;
just simple gasps, forgotten sighs
and flecks of storm cloud in our eyes.
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