Love Story

When I was young , weighed down with care,
I met a girl with golden hair.
She did not drink or smoke or swear;
she was a nurse, a dental.
All so-called beauties she’d eclipse,
a gorgeous girl with hourglass hips.
She spoke through lovely, pouting lips
with voice so soft and gentle.

We were in love, in love so deep.
I dreamed about her in my sleep.
She said she’d stay (though talk is cheap)
within my arms forever.
But life moves on and tides they turn
and bridges built are meant to burn
and lovers cause a cruel concern
incensing swords to sever.

Yes, we had foes; all lovers do
and dads despise a love that's true,
for daughters, they would run ‘em through:
those blue-eyed, lovesick dreamers.
And that was me, a Romeo;
a thorn around mom’s rose I’d grow;
their sympathy was all a show,
those sanctimonious schemers!

And time moved on, but we were blind,
like lovers , we were far too kind;
we wanted loveless souls to find
our paradise of pleasure.
But we were growing older too
and discontent, like weed, it grew,
we watched the first love we both knew
turn into tarnished treasure.

We grew apart; she wanted more
than lover boy, forever poor.
His bible-bashing was a bore
to parents with ambition.
One winter’s day, she said goodbye.
There’d been no portent in the sky
to warn, no comet blazing by
to mark this cruel transition.

A lifetime, then, we lived apart
locked up inside each other’s heart.
Her name, to me, a poisoned dart;
I could not even utter.
Then on a dusty, darkened screen
an email, somehow, I’d not seen,
before my eyes all unforeseen,
on angel wings did flutter.

The rest’s historic, as they say;
we slighted love, and had to pay:
(each actor in this passion play)
So, there’s no room for blaming.
We’re married now; I’m pleased to say;
the guilt and sorrow’s passed away,
and love, we buried yesterday,
once more is fiercely flaming!