Youth Tendered

14 Sep


So she was, in the winter of ’69,
faire haired girl, lips of mulled wine,
her eyes of emerald green, so bold,
alight her gaze, as dreams foretold;
a stolen moment, too brief to last,
she captured well, and held on fast;
a kiss, our virgin youth would know,
we shared our first, a seed to grow;
we held a love as was never met,
exploring skies, unfathomed yet;
hers, perhaps, ’twas youthful bade,
but mine, a time profoundly staid;
with seasons past, that winter spent,
I still can taste what that kiss meant,
recalling her sweet lips, I sadly sigh
that e’er came spring, our last goodbye.

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Posted by on September 14, 2015 in My Poetry



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