I have loved a man,

Who I knew nothing of;

His eyes appear soft,

His words share wisdom—that captivates me;

His touch felt warm and sweet,

And I heard him call my heart, “Queen of Sheba;”

In the softness of our pillow talk,

The sweetness of my treasure;

Against my wish, he stole.

Must I forgive him?

I want to—and I try!

Yet, the voices of pain speak louder,

Time has pass— the hour glass fly;

Telling tales of loss, as I age,

Still the ghost of his presence haunts;

As my brain becomes weary of truth,

The blindness of love made me a fool;

I travel to seek him,

I travel to seek him—- in my dreams;

So that I can steal his heart as he stole mine.

©2003 Maxine Foster