There is a sight of spring in her eyes,
there is a sight of spring in her smile.
Hidden by the veil of nature,
is a touch of her sorrow.
Time is slumbering,
and the world has become mellow.
Sadly, she stands her distance from me,
unsure what love really is.
My heart chose her,
but she has not chosen me.
It is lost and forgotten,
the old memories that
fill my heart.
It is hard to describe the misery that one feels.
I often ask myself the same old question.
"How does one tell the other, they are not in love?"
It is like the two shores of the sea that never meet.
I cannot endure such great loneliness.
We are near, yet we are so far.
This love in separation is unacceptable to me.
It is like there is a wall of glass
that is keeping us apart.
If I am sad and forlorn.
truth behold, she is sad as well.
We meet, yet we do not meet.
The roses bloom but does not bloom.
Strange how love is there is autumn in my heart.
this comes from an old story I wrote of a Roman soldier falling for a Jewish girl, a forbidden love that blossomed into something new.