Come dance with me, the Teke pledge said,
Offering her carnations red.
Together my love, our feet will fly,
My heart you fill, you’ll not deny.

He held her tight, but loose enough,
To twirl about, and strut her stuff.
A twosome, yet they were one,
Who lived life, love and fun.

He saw the love in her eyes,
The kind of love that never dies.
Their bond, the strongest weld,
To ecstatic future they propelled.

Then, something caught her eye,
An attraction she did not clarify.
Biology became her prime,
For him she left too little time.

He sadly said we need a break,
Then quickly learned a big mistake.

His love for her, he did shout,
She’d return, he had no doubt.
Alas for both, he was wrong,
No more to him, did she belong.

Three years, a thousand days,
Together, in oh so many ways.
The last dance, as he’d recall,
Held no clue what would befall.

*
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It’s good to lament. Or maybe not.
A glorious future, never brought.
I remember her, I did adore.
We were to be, evermore.

That’s what love can do. And did.
How quickly from my grasp it slid.
Love ended on a one-way track.
She loved me not as much back.

Heartbroken with no cure.
Love a fairy tale, that for sure.
Never again, I did swear,
The world proved love unfair.

Down a different path I wandered.
Love an illusion, no longer pondered.
Though, I must admit a lament or two.
Brief they were, but true.

Surprised was I, love didn’t last.
In time, the pain, the heartache past.
Whittier’s words of Tongue or Pen,
The saddest were, “What might have been.”

Illusions etched in memory’s wall,
Leave a blur in the withdrawal.
To lament is to fantasize,
A picturesque past and romanticize.

The mind perceives what the heart desires,
A path lighted by hopeful fires.
Love, a perfection not found,
Becomes the path to grievous ground.

That treasured time was unkind,
It left divers dolors deep behind.
Older, but am I wiser by the day?
Alas, I lament, I cannot say.

Those lost years I disregard,
Cherished moments, I still guard.
Times when she ruled my heart,
Before reality pulled us apart.

Love lost forever, is to lament.
Love must be evermore, not something lent.
Love is priceless time, do not burn.
Love those who love you in return.

Thirteen years until another to adore,
Now not a one-way track,
I loved her, she loved me back.
A perfect love evermore.

The sun replaced my mental cloud,
She said, “I love you,” right out loud.
Waves of love made me warm,
A love that became the norm.

Life is now the dream I sought,
Living love, the way life ought.
Yes, time moves with no grin,
My dream faded not with aged skin.

To the one whose love is no ghost,
To forever love, I propose a toast:
We grew old with love and fun,
I love you. My heart and soul you won.

**
This poem is on Vimeo
https://vimeo.com/440756997

Preface
Life is bookended by nothing.
Grasp what nothing truly means.
Nothing is not another form of something.
Nothing is — nothing.



Where were you long ago?
All that time before a tot.
In some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You were not.

Perhaps a soul in surplus stock,
A spirit not yet wrought.
Dressed in some heaven’s frock.
No. Not there. You were not.

Then came a twist of fate,
***** and egg were now one.
In this way did they create.
Your life had begun.

So began your book of life,
That in volumes three.
The past, the present,
and the yet to be.

Life is always in the now,
Presents itself as a choice.
Many matters to disavow,
To others, you give a voice.


Life is more than career,
Love is much more dear.
To love another earns its worth,
Makes your mark upon the Earth.

Take the time to stand and stare,
Feel the sun burst in the air.
Enjoy laughs and romance,
Work at love, at every chance.

And when the last word is writ,
There is no more, yet to be.
Life for you did quit,
Not something faced with glee.

At the end, where do you go?
To the place you were taught?
To some distant god’s château?
No. Not there. You are not.

Your Book of Life, a mere spark,
‘Twixt bookends of eternal dark.


This poem is also on Vimeo
Runs 3:39
https://vimeo.com/432650832