When the Time for Love has passed

When last I stood upon this place and looked at you your Hair shimmered like ebony gleaming on lost Atlantis and let down, it beckoned with a fervor untold Who could have said that that would be the time to let go? I didn’t know. When last I held you as I do but in a different context, was it to be so brief I should have held you longer? Closer? Stronger? How could I? The crumpled pages of my history would seem to verify my love for you, and at the time I couldn’t do much more. What was I to do? For it was true Yes, it was truth in my heart that I held for you As true as I can tell, and not stretch stories overmuch to bend them to my dreamed reality Was our time so brief as that? So it would seem that I have dreamed for too long and let the Wrongness of my heart creep once more into my mind and there I find what has been waiting all along. Can love’s emotion truly be so wrong? Try nevermind to what I said before, then, before then I was merely being foolish and to kid myself I overlooked what lay before me plain As day, and even night could shed more light than me                for I could not see to see So, truly, melancholy is no folly but to those who refuse its stay and anyway, the darkness lay before me now, the darkness wherein my wandering feet must play. Mark Burton Thursday, May 31, 2001, 12:52 A.M.