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He knew full well he would grow old Never again touching upon the fringe Of the love he had shared with her Her sapphire eyes would burn in him Through the lonely evenings ahead The feelings which had been theirs to share A fresh lavender fragrance would nestle As if her head was still resting on his chest And they would lazily relax without care But she had grudgingly grown into a restless soul Midnight mists called her to play at their leisure Wild winds begged her to dance, would she dare Starred sparks flitted about a warm evening sky Illuminating subtle tones upon her chestnut beauty The swish of taffeta of the skirts she would wear His heart would always weep a little for the girl For the scrap-book full of memories and wishes Which in his imagination he could open and stare Sometimes the yearning to touch her soft skin The burning desire to embrace her rounded shoulders Oh, a lifetime is sometimes more than he can bear Vote for this poem |
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