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
Author
Poll
