You, my beloved, dearest soul ever to touch a foot
on this hallowed earth upon which now I kneel,
It's but the memory of you, that fading recollection of
glorious moments past that join my aching heart to a
Wasted soul in an elusive hope that somehow, some
way, I might find relief from a descent into madness.
The parting of our ways was enjoined upon me by a
sickness that struck at a weakness we neither of us
Knew did lurk; and lurk and menace it did until, in full
and robust form, it burst forth fully conceived from an
Unsuspecting heart: your once pure and noble heart
fastened itself onto another, a soul whose neediness
Supplanted my own needs, those once attended to by
you; and so you drifted to him whose heart was, by
Urgent necessity, in peril lest you, the healer of those
forlorn, should fail to succor the weaker of us two.
Not unlike those lovers in Camelot, who would sooner
part company than rekindle a lambent love gone cold.
And may the wind always be at your back
Ahhh, CoCo, I feel you.
His name was Sam.
I say was because even though he still lives, he's not MY Sam anymore.
Am I making sense?
Thank you, Nancy and Sylvia, for posting.
The wind at my back is good, Nancy!
Yes, Syl, absolutely! You get my meaning and I yours -- no need to explain. We sorrow for our mutual losses and long for a requited love.
But who am I to mourn? There are so many loved ones chez moi.
Oh, but the heart begs to differ.
Spring 1971 was the happiest I ever remember, and I continue to measure each milestone in my life against that season.
I used to feel a slight twinge of guilt that even my baptism as a JW didn't measure up to it.
Love and blessings.
Understood, Dear, . . . understood.
Love and blessings, likewise, to you.