Heartbreak

I wrote this for someone who did not seem to want it.

Hair of the mother in autumn.

Who doth teach him in such a way.

Wisps of time float by through his gentle hum

Collapses the fabric in which he lay.

Eyes in which a thousand ships may be lost

Ilion may burn once again.

For there will never be a time that the cost

Of reaching you could ever be in vain

To melt and catch the time in rhythm

Would be to find the border of where his beat

Loses the touch of mine that goes with him

Oh lover behave to the wind of her calm

For you may find her prayer to be your psalm

Reviews

[J camp]

I liked the ending for sure. Clever.