Another previous autumn,
though morning spectacular,
on this occasion,
did I the writer,
affirm what true love did mean
feeling the crystalizing tremor
in my heart,
near my soul,
knowing now,
I might never turn back,
though being told,
I would always be one
rather than having the fortune
to share such a love
with her mystique,
a wonder I had observed
with so much passion
years earlier,
and this morning,
the two of us
in each other’s arms,
we were our eyes,
and nothing really mattered,
except time,
always in our way,
telling us no,
when for hours we had experienced
the beauty and grace of,
the beauty of,
this love.
© Scott F Savage 2019
apersonaljourney - stories of love 