Wistful
'...the wind plays andantes
of lost hopes and regrets.'
Hart Crane
It was your soul and frequent sorrow that beguiled me,
you seemed pale and unprotected; I wanted so much
to be your lover and your shield, to keep your miseries
at bay, by your side for ever for the glowing recognition
of your smile. But the opportunity was never really there,
and your lovely face lives only in my reveries.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2006
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