The Insanity and Truth of Her Tears
She came to me crying and hurting.
She came to me in a fit of despair.
I saw in her eyes that we'd met long before but I knew that I couldn't have been there.
She demanded my attention, she took hold and would not let go.
She saw in me her life's loves reflection, a ghost of the times of her love, now only sorrow.
Her pain was real and compelling. Her eyes were not telling a lie.
She wanted me to come back to hold her and she wanted to be with her when she died.
Though I knew that our ages were too distant, me a young man and her of senior years. I knew that there was a deep, burning connection through the insanity and truth of her tears.
Before she died she told a story with words that haunt my life to this day.
She told me of a love that had once been, many years ago she had found true love with a young man. A man who had loved her unconditionally and they had their time in the sun.
She reminisced true memories of her joy with this man who now was gone.
Lost in a battle; but I remembered like her words were memories of my own.
As she spoke these words mesmerised me. The sounds described, the smells, the tastes and the times in the sun.
It unlocked the door to dreams I have had with a beautiful woman. I remember the love that we had, I remember those days in the sun.
I remember saying goodbye to my true love and I remember turning to see her face in the sun.
I remember the battle, the horses and swords of no mercy and I remember being a soldier and falling as one.
As she died she held my hand tightly. Her eyes fixed on mine once again. With a smile she passed peacefully and I sat there in memory of her for a while.
I remembered my dreams of love with a beautiful woman, dreams of happiness joy and fun. Dreams of making love in the country were actually memories of a life where once we'd been together as one.
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2016
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