I could remember the quiet of a summer evening,
holding hands hindered lovers forever a serenade
Only we might know the wavering demonic air
circulating around our lives always an observance.
Would that she find solace in a walk inside a tide
the history of woman finding her journey alone.
Hers in a possible posture would I always recognize
to such a degree in lonely nights worrying and wise.
As a fairy tale might suggest aspects of forbidden love
would end badly if in Hollywood, certainly not Disney.
Life is a fantasy we might someday find ourselves dreaming,
then forever persecuted by an inability to find our stream
of consciousness. that part of our being that reminds
our heart, our soul in a daily routine of sound mind.
There is a special nature to the lovely grace of woman
for no man might ever hold promise, prideful an omen.
© Scott F Savage 7/2020